Reanna
by Railynn
Summary: Third in the saga that began with "Arianne," Arianne and Jack's daughter, Reanna, takes flight and begins her adventurous path to her destiny.
1. To Be More

Reanna  
*********************************************************************** This is the last story in the trilogy that began with Arianne. Reanna has grown into a raven-haired siren with many talents, but fears that she will not be able to live up to her mother's (Arianne) and father's (Jack Sparrow) legacies. This is her story, fraught with excitement, peril, and-- of course--romance.  
  
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Chapter One: To Be More...  
  
She stood on the edge of the island's highest bluff looking down at the water below her. If she did this right, she would have accomplished something that even her father was too scared to do. But if she did it wrong...well, she would be smashed upon the rocks below her. She drowned the twinge of fear she felt at the thought of dying, and tested the wind. Yes, the northerly breeze should do fine--it wouldn't dash her into the rocks on the way down, but would carry her slightly away from the rocks that awaited a fool just such as she beneath the water.  
She stepped back three giant steps, exhilaration and adrenaline pumping through her veins. Taking a deep breath, she ran towards the edge of the cliff and leaped off headfirst with her eyes closed, enjoying the wind whipping against her face and through her hair. She adjusted her body position slightly in order to be more aerodynamic in the middle of the seemingly endless fall. When she finally felt the jolt of the cold seawater enfold her body rather than the jolt of hitting her head on treacherous rocks, she was so overcome with relief and pride that she nearly shouted her triumph before coming up for air.  
"Whoooo!" she shouted with glee when she finally drew a breath on the surface, slapping the water with her hand.  
"Gods above, I think fifty more hairs just turned gray!" her father said when she had reached the shore. "I thought you were bloody well going to kill yourself!"  
"So you saw the fantastic dive, then?" she replied, grinning from ear to ear with happiness.  
"Ye're damned right I saw it! You nearly gave me a heart attack when you went off the edge of that cliff! You could have hit the rocks and bloody bashed your brains out!" He was obviously very upset, and did not seem to know quite what to do with himself. Reanna watched various expressions flitting across his face, from anger to relief to anguish to pride. It was quite amusing.  
"I'm sorry, Da, I promise I won't do that again without making sure you're not watching," she said meekly.  
As she had hoped, this made him crack a smile. He grabbed her and tousled her hair. "Ah, you remind me so much of myself it's frightening, lovey."  
"So it was a fantastic dive, then?" she asked, looking up at him with mischief twinkling in her eyes.  
"Of course it was! I taught you how to bloody dive, if it had been anything less you would have been grounded!"  
She flinched. Being grounded was the worst thing in the world to her. It meant that she had to stay on land while her father went out on the sea for any reason. She could hardly stand being left on the isle when her father--and even her mother, sometimes--left the isle to visit Tortuga or some other such place.  
"Well, if I had been grounded I would have told Mother that you've been swearing around me again," she said wickedly.  
"Bloody..." he started, and then amended his statement with, "And then you take on your beautiful mother's personality. Wicked little vixen you are!"  
"I learned from the best," she replied.  
"Put your clothes on, Rea," Jack said, staring disapprovingly at her stiff leather shift and what was really no more than underwear made of the same material.  
She sighed and put her breeches and shirt back on obediently.  
"If you keep going around like that, love, some boy's bound to take advantage of you," he said gruffly.  
"He can bloody try," Reanna replied darkly.  
That ended their conversation as they walked back to the house.  
  
Late that night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, she climbed out onto the roof to look at the stars, doing her very best to make as little noise as possible. She came out here every night, whether the sky was clear or stormy, and greeted the stars with a song that she could not voice aloud, though she dearly wished to.  
For as long as she could remember, she had heard the star song in her head, and sang it whenever she found the time to be alone. Her mother had heard her humming it one day and had asked if Y'lorani had taught it to her. Reanna would have answered with the truth--that no one had taught it to her, that she had always seemed to know it--if only her mother hadn't had such a horrified expression on her face. She had no idea why her mother had reacted that way, and so refrained from humming or singing anything around her.  
She got on better with her father, anyway. She was more like him than she was her mother, and sometimes she suspected that her mother resented that just a bit. It didn't help that Reanna "made" things happen without meaning to sometimes, either. She had lost several friends because she was so fey, so the only people she really related to anymore were the crew of pirates on the Black Pearl and the elves that had made the journey with her mother and father back here.  
She sighed, thinking of the adventures her parents had had--Jack a few more than Arianne if only because he had been pirating long before he ever met her mother. How on earth was she supposed to BE someone when her parents had such legacies? How was she supposed to distinguish herself? Sighing again, she climbed down from the roof and back into her room.  
Her life was filled with things that most kids her age could barely even conceive of, and she was only sixteen years old, but all of those fantastic stories and the elves were brought by her mother and father.  
She was lost in their lives.  
She wanted a life of her own--to be someone whose name everyone knew and told fantastic tales of.  
She slid into dreams of adventure and love, then, desperately longing for the life her subconscious mind provided for her.  
  
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Alright! Reanna has begun! I do hope that you guys like it, and I have to warn you that the PotC characters are likely to be more of cameos than having a whole lot of involvement. This will be more of being involved in the PotC world--for the most part--than anything else. I still hope you'll all read it just the same, though! 


	2. Cheers!

Chapter Two: Cheers!  
  
"The girl's reckless, Jack!" Arianne said to Jack that same night. "I wish you wouldn't keep egging her on to greater deeds of danger so I can teach her something about responsibility! If she's going to take the elves to their new world, she needs to grow up!"  
"Arianne, love, there's nothing I can do to stop her," replied Jack. "I don't 'egg her on,' but I also don't hold her back. She's trying to grow up, love, trying to become her own person."  
"What the hell do you mean, 'trying to become her own person'? She's already her own person!" Arianne shouted back.  
"No, love, she's not. She can't be when she's in our shadows," Jack said gently, stroking his wife's hair in an effort to calm her down. She relaxed against him, but barely.  
"Jack, she dove from the highest cliff on the island. Her body could have bashed against the rocks. Does she not realize how much we worry about her?"  
"I'm sure she knows, love. But it really was a fantastic dive. She calculated the degree the wind was blowing at to perfection. I don't think she would have done it if the wind had been blowing any other direction. She may seem reckless to you, but she's really the most intelligent person I've ever known. She just wants a thrill, love. And she doesn't have to lead the elves to their new home for a while yet. She doesn't have to take them anywhere until she's eighty, for all that I'm concerned with it. Let her live her life. No more of this talk of responsibility, and please don't ground her."  
"Why the bloody hell shouldn't I?" Arianne asked, turning to face him with fire in her eyes. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't ground her for nearly killing herself!"  
"Because she didn't kill herself--didn't you hear what I said? She calculated it all perfectly, love. That means that she's learned how to gauge the wind. You should reward her for lessons well-learned rather than grounding her for what you perceive to be a crime." Jack stared hard at Arianne, knowing that she would do her best to resist his good logic. She had changed so much since Reanna had begun to become a woman. Reanna had grown more and more beautiful as the days passed by, and Jack had suspicions that Arianne was jealous.  
In his eyes, of course, Arianne was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but Reanna was starting to get more attention when they all went out than Arianne did. Arianne and Reanna looked to be the same age physically (Arianne had only been two years older than Reanna when she had stopped aging), and instead of flirting with Arianne as they had always done, they were bypassing her for Reanna.  
"Alright, fine, I won't ground her," Arianne finally grumbled. Instead of staying with Jack to talk some more, she got in bed and, facing away from him, pretended to go to sleep.  
Jack shook his head. It wasn't fair to Reanna that her mother was acting this way, but he knew that there was little, if anything, that he could do about it. Arianne was a goddess, and Reanna was her half-goddess daughter. Sighing, he left the room instead of joining Arianne in bed and went downstairs to find some rum.  
It was a good night for a bottle or two.  
To his surprise, he found Dharketh and Y'lorani in the kitchen, like they had been waiting for him. There were five bottles of rum sitting on the small table. Dharketh immediately left the room, mumbling something about needing to attend to something or other outside, leaving Jack and Y'lorani alone.  
"She is not only a half-goddess, you know," Y'lorani said mysteriously--as was her wont--and handed him a bottle, opening one for herself. Jack smiled wryly. Of the ten or fifteen elves that had accompanied them back into the sunlit world, Y'lorani was the only one that had developed a taste for rum. He liked her for that.  
"I assume you're speaking of my daring daughter," Jack said after taking a swig. He and Y'lorani had become rather good friends, in spite of her answering his questions before he even asked them--sometimes before he had even consciously thought them. Their conversations could get confusing if he wasn't careful.  
"Yes, of course. I cannot quite see her future. When I try, I can see nothing more than blurred images. It's probably because she is the child of the Aether as well as the child of my goddess."  
See, he thought to himself, if he wasn't careful he could get confused--and apparently he wasn't being careful. "The aether?" he asked.  
"Do you remember when Arianne told you of the place she went after she gave humanity their gift?" Y'lorani asked him patiently.  
"Yes...and she told me about the Being that kept her safe there...but what does that have to do with Reanna?"  
"As far as I can figure," Y'lorani said, "the Being imbued some of his own essence into your body--which is why you haven't seemed to age past twenty. Did Arianne never tell you of this?" she asked when she saw the look on his face. When he shook his head, she simply shrugged and continued. "I think that could be why I can See a little bit where you are concerned. But that still doesn't account for all of the power of the Aether there is in Reanna. I don't know, perhaps He had something to do with it, but either way I cannot See what things may come to her.  
"I cannot even see her past. She is very well protected against those who would use Vision to seek her out, you should be glad. You and Arianne are not so lucky as that, but there are few Seers in this area anyway. You should not be concerned." She drained her bottle and uncorked another.  
Not to be outdone by an elf, Jack finished off his own bottle and took a giant gulp of the next before speaking. "So...I'm fey too, then, eh?"  
"Partially, yes, though not in the same way as we elves are."  
"Great! Now I don't feel so left out! Cheers!" he said, and he and Y'lorani clinked their bottles together before draining them.  
  
On one of the various islands in the Caribbean, two men met in the back corner of a seedy bar. They were both carefully cloaked so no one could see their faces and spoke in low tones so as not to be heard.  
"Ye'll find her?" the taller man asked.  
"I cannot see her," the other replied, and before the first man could protest, he added, "but I can see the others, and they'll lead me to her soon enough."  
The first man pushed a bag fat with coins across the table. The second immediately snatched it up before it could cause too much notice amongst the other patrons of the bar.  
"Half now--half when you bring me results," the first man said. When the second man shuffled out of the bar, he added, "If you bring her to me, I'll give you more money than you can possibly spend."  
He knew that the second man had heard him, though he was surely far beyond the bar now.  
  
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Alright, chapter two! I feel really good about this story, this one will go places, I think! 


	3. Port Royal

Chapter Three: Port Royal  
  
She put on the dress that her mother had brought to her this morning. It was a beautiful thing, deep emerald with trimming the color of fresh cream, but she hated wearing dresses. They were so restricting--in more ways than one, due to the corset. She stood in front of the mirror forlornly while Haramel--another of the elves that had come with her mother and father--fixed her hair. While Haramel generally preferred very intricate hairstyles that indicated certain things or events, Reanna had asked that her long mane simply be twisted up at the back of her neck with the long sticks that elvin women wore to keep their hair back.  
Haramel complied, for the most part. Instead of twisting the shining black hair all in a knot, she let the ends hang free and curled them into spirals that hung near halfway down her back.  
Reanna sighed. Going to Port Royal was such a bore. She had to look and act properly according to the unwritten code of etiquette followed by all of the useless fops and silly little twits. It really was unfair to her that she had to look like a proper lady when her mother had been gallivanting about the docks in men's clothing at her age.  
Besides, Reanna thought as she shifted the corset so she could breathe a little better, her mother would probably prefer her to look as unattractive as possible, right? So why did she have to get all dressed up when it was her mother that wanted the attention anyway? Reanna certainly didn't like being ogled by the vapid and hormone-charged young men in the city. Sure, she felt the urges that most girls her age felt, but she was more self-disciplined than they were, and she was not--under ANY circumstances--looking to get married.  
Maybe if she were to meet an intelligent young man she would consider going to Port Royal less boring, but there was very little chance of that. It didn't help that "Will the Third" had decided to take a fancy to her, either. He was the worst of all of them, trying to make conversation with her over silly things like the weather, as if she had nothing better to talk about. When she said anything intelligent, he stared at her blankly and then started asking her about who had tailored her dresses. It was intolerable!  
Elizabeth Turner didn't at all like that her son was so infatuated with her--this was about the only thing they agreed on, as a matter of fact. Reanna avoided little William (as she liked to refer to him in her head) as often as she possibly could, and Elizabeth saved her (though Reanna doubted that Elizabeth looked at it that way...) from the torture of talking with him the whole time they were in Port Royal. One thing that really burned Reanna was how Elizabeth looked at her. The woman glared at her every time she came into sight like she was some whore bent on stealing her son and husband away.  
Of course, Reanna knew about the relationship her mother had had with Elizabeth's husband. Her mother hadn't told her any details, but she knew from the way her mother talked about Will that they had had sexual relations. Elizabeth still rather disliked Arianne for that, as well.  
It burned Elizabeth even more that Arianne was still as beautiful as she had been the day she married Jack Sparrow. Even though Will hadn't looked at Arianne in any way other than friendship ever since that day, Elizabeth still hated her and found any excuse to be out of the house when Arianne and Jack came for a visit--usually she took her son with her.  
Her grandmother was the only thing that made the visits halfway interesting--well, the man her grandmother had married, anyway. Governor Swann was the most amusing man--aside from her father, and he was amusing in an entirely different way--that Reanna had ever met. He was such a bumbling old fool, and said some of the funniest things sometimes. Occasionally he would slip her a trinket to take home with her, and she took them only to make him happy. She had no use for the rings and bracelets he gave her, but when he gave her the old compass, she had kissed him on the cheek in her happiness.  
He had blushed, and then it had been time to go.  
"Reanna! Are you ready yet?" called her mother from downstairs.  
"Yes, Mother," she called back half-heartedly. Another weekend of torture. When she came out of the house, her father gave her a smile and a wink behind her mother's back--their little signal that he would make it up to her. Taking a deep breath and drawing her shoulders back to stand up straight, she walked with dignity onto the ship.  
  
Whatever her father was going to do to make up for this, she thought as she sat listening to little William ramble on about hunting, it had bloody well better be something huge. When she could finally stand no more, she asked, "So do you eat the animals you kill, then?"  
William stared at her as if she were daft. "Of course not! My friends and I keep their pelts, we throw the rest away."  
Ah, yes...spoken like the true sportsman, Reanna thought furiously, but refrained from saying something rash that would get her grounded. Thankfully--and she thanked every god she could think of, including the god of the humans--Elizabeth finally came in and stole William away.  
When she was alone, she abandoned her ladylike posture and sat back in the chair, her legs splayed out. Rubbing her temples, she hummed the star song softly to herself to try and rid herself of the dreadful headache speaking with William always brought her. When it had finally receeded--to a point--she looked at the clock. Oh bloody hell, it was seven o'clock! She was supposed to have been at her grandmother's house an hour ago.  
Mumbling curses under her breath, she stood up, shaking out her skirts and straightening her hair. She quietly left the manor the Turners owned and hurried up to the Governor's household.  
  
"Damn, I think something bit me, love!" Jack exclaimed that afternoon as they walked through the city. Arianne looked at where he had been bitten and saw only the usual red mark left by a mosquito bite.  
"Jack, you're fine, it's just a mosquito bite."  
"It bloody well didn't feel like a mosquito!" he exclaimed.  
Laughing, Arianne put her arm in his and they made their way through the streets of Port Royal.  
  
Watching them through the crystal, Y'lorani frowned. This had the feel of importance, but she could not push past the feeling to the truth of the matter.  
Time would tell.  
  
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*Sings the Twilight Zone theme* ;) Rin- Thanks muchly for the compliment! Yes, I've heard of The Secret Window. I haven't seen it (and don't intend to until it comes out on video). What's your story going to be about? Is it a PotC fic, or a Secret Window fic about Johnny's character's kid? Shoot me an e-mail (the address I use most of the time is in my profile, but I won't be here all week, so it may take some time to get back to you). Also, if you haven't already done so it might be a good idea to read Arianne and The Fountain of Youth. They come before this story, and you'll understand a lot more that way...I know, that means more reading, but if you wish to understand my OCs better, that'd be the best way to do it! Not that I'm saying you HAVE to...because you don't! 


	4. Please

Chapter Four: Please  
  
The man grinned wickedly as his dart hit the target. His grin grew even wider when he thought about the sum of money he had just earned himself by the simple task of shooting a poisoned dart accurately. He laughed softly to himself while he put the implements of his trade away and then climbed down from the attic of a shop.  
He laughed again when he thought about the expression his victim's face and how the man had immediately slapped at his neck, making the dart fall away and be lost in the dust of the streets. That was really the biggest chance of his business--that someone would find the darts and they would lead straight to him. Luckily, most assumed that the sting of his dart was a mosquito and simply slapped it away, never realizing that there was an insidious and very slow-moving poison lodged in their bodies.  
Endlessly amused, and no doubt thought quite mad by passersby, he laughed all the way down the street.  
  
**  
  
He saw. He always saw. The only difference from most of what he saw was that this time, things were slightly blurred--though not enough for him to be confused as to the whereabouts of the people he watched. The marksman was crystal-clear, but his victim was one of the only two people that he could barely See, and this of course maddened him. There was one other person that he could see little of, as well, and it frustrated him beyond belief that he could get no clear image of her face and surroundings. All he could ever see was a glimpse of raven colored hair, a flash of emerald eyes. According to his employer, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen--and he had seen a lot of women.  
She was the daughter of the slightly blurred couple. For reasons unknown to him, his employer wanted her captured and brought to him. This would be easiest if the three of them were all at the same place at the same time--hence his own hiring of the marksman to bring down the girl's father.  
He would have asked for a faster-moving poison, but it would have killed the man too quickly for him to complete his job--and he dearly wished for the other half of the pay, as well as the possibility of a bonus.  
A challenge was so rare in his life, he who could See anything he wished, and he relished this one as he would a delicacy from France.  
  
**  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mother," Arianne was saying to Amara as they left hurriedly. "I wish we could have visited for longer, but I've never seen Jack so ill--we must get back home as quickly as possible to speak with Dharketh and Y'lorani."  
"It's fine, darling, just come back when he's better! And do write!" Amara called as they hurried down the street, Arianne supporting Jack from one side while Reanna supported him from the other.  
Reanna was worried for her father. She had never seen him weak, and to see her idol ashen-faced and barely conscious shook her to the core of her soul. He couldn't be sick! He was her father, he had to remain in good health!  
She was just happy that there weren't very many people out to crowd the streets and make things more difficult than they were. It was surprisingly awkward half-carrying a grown man while wearing a corset.  
"Mama," she panted before they had even gone a full block, "Mama, I can't keep holding him up like this."  
"We have to get him home, Reanna," her mother said sharply, but Reanna tried not to mind too much because she knew that it was mostly out of worry for her husband that Arianne spoke that way.  
"Just stop for a minute, Mama, I have a better way," Reanna pleaded.  
"Fine, as long as it will get us back home quicker."  
They maneuvered him over to a wall and sat him gently down against it. Reanna proceeded to get the outer dress and the corset off, much to her mother's shock and disapproval. "Reanna!" she hissed, "What do you think you're doing?!"  
"Listen," she replied, perhaps more scathingly than she intended, "I am just as worried as you are about Father, and if I'm not constricted by that damned torture device I can carry him and we'll get to the Pearl that much faster."  
Her mother pursed her lips at the tone Reanna used, but no longer objected. Reanna took her heeled shoes off last and then, as gently as she could, she picked her father up. He was heavier than she had thought, but not so heavy that she couldn't make it the half-mile or so to the ship.  
Arianne picked up the discarded clothes and shoes and quietly followed.  
  
"Mr. Gibbs!" Reanna called up when she reached the ship. She called twice more, her arms and back aching from her heavy load now that she had stopped, and finally someone looked down. Not Mr. Gibbs, who was supposed to be on duty, but Ana Maria.  
"Bloody hell!" the woman swore before lowering the plank so that they could board.  
When they reached the deck, Ana Maria swore again, this time more colorfully as she realized who it was Reanna carried. "Please--we need to get back home as quickly as possible," Reanna said to the crew as they slowly assembled. When they stood there, she shouted, "Get to work, you blasted dullards! Your captain needs you!"  
They all scurried off to their various duties of getting out of the bay and into the open sea at her authoritative tone. Her mother simply looked at her in shock. "Come on, Mother, we need to put him to bed," Reanna said wearily.  
Nodding curtly, she led the way to Jack's cabin and readied the bed for when Reanna finally got there. It was difficult to carry a man while the ship was turning about, so she made slower progress than she could have wished, nearly dropping him more than once.  
After Jack was safely abed, Reanna couldn't stand watching him lay there and so she fled the room before her emotions of fear and anger and worry made her break down into tears in front of her mother. There was one place she could go where she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing her cry, and she went there immediately. No one used the crow's nest often anymore anyway, so she had no worry about kicking someone out.  
  
When the immediate storm of tears had ceased, she sat curled in the crow's nest staring up at the stars. "Please," she whispered, the first time she had ever asked anything of the heavens, "please don't let him die."  
  
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Rin-Of course we have an accord--you don't have to ask me to put the story in your list, lol! No one else does, and that doesn't bother me a bit! On the contrary, I'm flattered that anyone pays attention to my writings and puts me on their author alerts list! And I'm happy that my story isn't like yours, that makes for less trouble for you, yay! If you write it, I'll likely read it! Thanks so much for your reviews! 


	5. You Are No Elf

Chapter Five: You Are No Elf  
  
Y'lorani was waiting for them when they got home. She had, apparently seen Jack's collapse, and so his room was all ready for him to be laid there. She had also called upon Pur'a'ti--the only elf here that knew something of healing--to be at the ready for the Pearl's arrival.  
There was a flurry of activity as Reanna carried Jack down from the ship, where Y'lorani took over for the obviously exhausted girl. Reanna's knees gave in once her important burden had been taken from her and she sat on the ground while the crowd of people surrounding Y'lorani and her father moved into the house. The whole of the crew had even gone once the ship was safely anchored.  
Before most of the crew was kicked out of the house to let Pur'a'ti see to Jack, Reanna ran away from the house and to the cliff she had leapt from so carefree only yesterday. It was nearing midnight, she knew, but her mother would not even notice she was gone. No one would until there was nothing better to do than come searching for her, and by then she would probably be in her room anyway.  
The stars were halfway through their nightly waltz and she watched them for a while, fancying that she danced with them. When her little fantasy had run through, she stood still on the cliff, feeling as though she could reach up and pull down the moon.  
Before she realized what she was doing, she started singing her greeting to the stars. She stopped as soon as she heard her own voice, but then remembered that no one was going to be bothered with her for quite a while yet, and so she raised her voice once more. She had always been very talented with her voice, and now she used that talent to weave a strain of pleading into the greeting.  
She didn't realize it, but the island grew quiet as she lifted her voice higher and higher to the sky, some of the notes falling like a blanket over the isle. Eventually, the greeting to the stars ended, but she did not stop singing. She sang a different song, one she did not think she had ever heard, but it was a haunting tune and it seemed to draw her of its own will through the complicated phrasings and notes, keeping her entrapped in its spell.  
Only when He spoke to her did she realize that she had closed her eyes and that she was not alone.  
"You have much power," He said softly. Her eyes snapped open and before her she saw the most beautiful elf she had ever seen. His skin was smooth and his eyes held all the stars in the sky. His hair was the absolute black of night.  
Fear crept through her at the absolute power and extreme age exuding from His very being. "You are no elf," she whispered--all she could manage with the lump in her throat.  
"No, I am not. This was simply the form that I felt would best comfort you."  
She giggled a little madly, then. "Well, it's not working!"  
"So I see. But you have no reason to fear me, Daughter. After all, it was you that called me."  
Her hysterical laughter ceased abruptly when He called her "daughter." Daughter? She was Jack Sparrow's child!  
"Your father is, indeed, the man by the name of Jack Sparrow, but I also contributed a piece of myself in your making. You have the power of the Aether within you, but I had hoped that you would never see it." He sounded sad, and she felt herself sorrow with him.  
"I...I called you?" she asked timidly.  
"Yes, Child, you called me. Your song called my Name, and so here I am, for I could not ignore the desperate cry from one whom I helped to father. Child, you cannot use the Aether to such an extent. Your mortal body--though stronger than most--cannot handle such a powerful substance."  
"But...if I cannot use it...then how did I call you?" she asked, confused.  
"I perhaps erred in the amount of myself I put in you. You hear the Dance, you see the Dance, and the Dance moves you to its rhythm. Child, you are more powerful already than you can handle, more powerful than your mother was even at the peak of her powers before she first came to me. You are not ready to hold so much, nor are you ready to join the Dance of the Stars. I am sorry, but I must do something about this." He truly sounded as though He was sorry, and this surprised her.  
When he started to fade, she cried out in alarm. "Wait! Please, wait!" she begged.  
"What is it?" He asked gently.  
"My father. He's...I think he might be dying."  
"I cannot interfere in the lives of mortals, Daughter," He lightly admonished.  
"Please," she whispered, so softly that she herself could not even hear it.  
"Come, Child," He said, and held out His hand. She took it. "We shall see what can be done," He whispered, his voice ringing with the sound of death. She closed her eyes and nodded.  
When she opened them again, they were beside her father's bed. He looked so weak, laying there gasping for breath. When the man beside her put His hand on her father's heart, she nearly pulled Him away in her fear that He would crush him, but stopped herself. It was hard.  
"He has been poisoned. Normally this poison slowly works its way through the body, but for some reason it has felled him more quickly than normal. I can make the poison recede enough that he will live for a few more weeks, but he will die, Child."  
Reanna bowed her head in grief. "Please, do what you can," she whispered, feeling like a traitor for allowing her father to suffer because of her selfishness.  
  
Later, when He had gone and her mother had left at Pur'a'ti's insistence that she get some sleep, Reanna sat alone by her father's bed.  
"Y'lorani was right," wheezed a familiar voice, and Reanna raised her head to look at her father.  
"Da!" she exclaimed, "You're awake!"  
"Yes...and I want you to know that I know exactly what you did--He told me. Don't mourn for me, lovey, I'm not afraid to die anymore. Your mother will be very upset with me for speaking with you before her, but she'll just have to get over it.  
"When I die, I want you to sing my body into the depths of the sea. The Pearl will be yours to go wherever you like. Your freedom. You'll make a life for yourself, love, without your mother and me hovering over you. Don't let anyone pressure you into doing something you're not ready for-- take your time and do what you want with your life.  
"And...thank you, Reanna. Without your help, I wouldn't even have been able to say goodbye to anyone--now I've got time to say goodbye to everyone."  
She hugged him tightly, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. "I'll miss you, Da," she whispered.  
"Shh, shh, it's alright Reanna, darling," he whispered, patting her back. "I have to ask a favor of you though, alright?"  
She sat up and wiped at her eyes. "Anything, Da," she said.  
"Find out who poisoned me, love, and why they did it," he said, staring soberly into her eyes. "I've not made any enemies in the last seventeen years, and most of the ones I used to have are dead. I would hate for anyone to come after you because I'm not here anymore."  
"Alright, Da, I'll find them. I promise. But I'm not going anywhere while you're still here."  
  
The Seer frowned. Jack Sparrow wasn't supposed to weaken so quickly, and just when his soul had been about to flee his mortal body, something had happened to make the poison recede. He frowned deeper, wondering what Powers he might be getting himself into trouble with.  
It was time to kill the marksman.  
  
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Alrighty, five chapters in as many days! My muse is treating me very well, I think she's making up for The Fountain of Youth's disappointment. I hope you all enjoyed, and I would much appreciate reviews from all of you on your thoughts! 


	6. A Baby With a Torch

Chapter Six: A Baby With a Torch  
  
She frolicked on a leaf-strewn forest path, not caring that she did not know how she had gotten here or that the trees were of a type she had never seen before. When she came to a clearing, she found herself wondering why all paths in the woods led to a "clearing." She knew then that this was a dream. Her dreams always seemed to lead her to these mysterious clearings in which strange things happened.  
When she stopped wondering, she discovered that she was not alone. In the center stood the same elf that had met her last night and brought her father out of his sickness--well, He had brought her father back from the abyss of death, if only for a short time. He was still living, and even relatively healthy in that he could walk the short distance down to the beach and back to the house.  
"Why are you here?" she asked, wary and seeming to remember something about Him needing to change something about her.  
"I am sorry, Daughter, but I must hide your powers from you. It is too dangerous for you to be wandering with all of this energy pent up within you, waiting for the slightest emotional outburst to get free."  
"If I don't have the power, how am I supposed to learn to use it so it doesn't harm me?" she asked, slightly indignant that He had just called her, essentially, a child with a torch.  
He sighed. "You will learn to control it bit by bit, but through experiences that you haven't yet had."  
When she opened her mouth to say something, He raised His hand, stopping her tongue in her mouth. His eyes flashed with power, and she felt very strange...It was almost as though she had forgotten what she was about to say, but it went deeper than that. It was as if she had forgotten a part of herself that she had always had, even if it was just beyond her reach.  
"You will dream no more of me," He said, but now she could no longer see Him and His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "You will not see me again until you have come home."  
Then, like she had been shoved in the chest by a very powerful hand, she was hurtled out of the dream world.  
She tried her best to remember what had happened in the dream, but could not, and so she fell back into a deep sleep.  
  
**  
  
Arianne was furious. Her husband was dying and there was nothing she could do about it, and to top it all off, Y'lorani and Jack had both KNOWN that he was going to die and had not told her! How dared they keep something like that a secret from her? She felt as though she was losing everything she had held dear. First, the elves that had come back from the cursed isle they had lived on for centuries had started to move away and start new lives for themselves, then Reanna had started to grow away from her as she had grown up, and now...now the man she loved with all of her heart was going to die.  
She knew she was beginning to go mad, but could find no way out of the downward spiral. The only thing that had helped her feel better since Reanna had begun to become a woman was to drink a bit (a bit? closer to a gallon, really...) of whiskey per day. It wasn't Jack's preferred beverage, she knew, and she knew also that he would definitely disapprove of her drinking it alone, but she did it all the same. Her life was beginning to unravel, and the only thing that could keep the utter madness away was her whiskey.  
She dropped her head on the kitchen table, barely feeling it as her forehead thudded into hard wood. Why was all of this happening now? She had been so happy for the first eleven years of Reanna's life.  
It was Reanna's fault, came a sneaking thought into her mind. If Reanna hadn't "made" those fires happen, if Reanna hadn't been born, if Reanna wasn't so damnably beautiful...  
Arianne stopped those thoughts with another swig of whiskey. It wasn't Reanna's fault, and Arianne knew it. Reanna hadn't meant to start those fires, Haramel had only been trying to teach her how to light a candle with her mind.  
She closed her eyes, reliving the memory...  
  
"Now," Haramel instructed, "think very hard about a small flame, and when you have the image in your mind, I want you to 'project' that image onto the candle wick."  
Reanna, a girl with merely nine years of age to her, had nodded and closed her eyes, apparently doing what Haramel had told her to. Something had gone wrong, though, because when Reanna had projected her mental image, the trees around them had caught fire as well as the candle wick--which was flaring more than any candle should.  
Haramel had hurried to get a frightened and teary-eyed Reanna out of the flaming copse of palm trees. Immediately all of the elves and Arianne had been gathered together and called up rain clouds to put out the fire, leaving a very distraught Reanna sitting off to the side safely away from the flames.  
Haramel, as well as the other elves, had tried several times to train Reanna properly in calling a flame to a candle, but the results were always the same, no matter how much Reanna protested that she had done exactly as she had been told.  
Eventually, the project had been abandoned.  
  
If only Reanna weren't so powerful, Arianne mused as she came out of the memory. She believed that Reanna had only envisioned a tiny flame, but the fire had heard her call and had roared to do her bidding--even if she hadn't actually bid the fire to do harm to anything surrounding her.  
Reanna steadfastly avoided the subject of fire, and had never since had any freak conflagrations happened. Poor Reanna blamed herself, but Arianne knew that it really wasn't the girl's fault.  
She didn't know who to blame other than herself, and so she did so heartily, drowning the shame of being jealous of her more beautiful, more talented and more powerful daughter in whiskey.  
Gods, she thought blearily when the tankard had been emptied several times. Her husband was dying, her daughter was better than she was, and her life was falling apart around her, but now she wasn't angry, or even the slightest bit annoyed.  
No, she was far too drunk for that.  
She laughed, instead, the laughter echoing through the empty kitchen. Then she cried, feeling more alone than she ever had in her long life.  
  
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Ah, how the mighty have fallen...Jack dying, Arianne drinking herself into a stupor...how Fate swallows lives! Tune in next time to see what happens next in...Reanna! Also, I know I've been posting a ton lately, but I warn you all that it may not last. It MIGHT go back to being a week before I can get the next chapter written, so enjoy this while it lasts! 


	7. What About the Rum!

Chapter Seven: What About the Rum?!  
  
Jack lay in his bed, feeling miserable. He could feel the poison creeping in his veins, pumping through his heart, weakening him with every circuit. He could still walk to the dock and back, but barely. It was getting harder and harder to pull his weary body out of bed. Gods, he thought, and then realized that the plural was quite accurate. There was more than one god...there used to be many, but now that number had been whittled down to two--three if the Being that had made his life a little bit longer counted as a god. He scratched that thought. It was only two. The Being was something beyond the gods, was the Aether itself if Arianne and Y'lorani were to be believed. Gasping for air, he decided to stop trying to think so much. It was exhausting.  
Eventually he realized that he was not alone, and somehow he knew that he hadn't been alone for some time. "What do you want?" he asked wearily, thinking it was perhaps Pur'a'ti come back to check on him.  
"I want you to live," Reanna said.  
He turned towards her immediately, surprised that she was awake so late.  
"I don't want you to die, Da, I don't know what I'll do without you." Her voice shook with barely suppressed tears.  
"Reanna, there's nothing we can do about this," he reminded her gently.  
"I know, Da, but...but I hate seeing you lay there, you're so weak, you've always been so strong. How could this have happened?"  
"I don't know, love, but you'll find out some day," he replied, and knew in that moment that he spoke the truth. Perhaps near-death gave him a bit of clairvoyance, he mused absently.  
"I will make him regret this, Da, I swear I will," she said, her voice hard with anger and grief.  
"That's all well and good, love, but remember that you might regret your actions if you let yourself get out of hand," he warned, more than a little alarmed at her vow of revenge. He remembered the fires, and knew that if Reanna were to be angry when she called to the flames they would likely consume everything within a ten-mile radius.  
"I won't get out of hand, Da," she said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "I promise. I only want to get them back for what they've done to you and to Mother."  
"What do you mean, what they've done to your mother?" he asked, sensing that there was something deeper here than just Arianne's grief over his death that was soon to come.  
"I...I saw Mama drinking, Da. She wasn't drinking rum, I think it might have been whiskey."  
Jack made a face at the mention of the whiskey, but saw nothing to be concerned about. "So she was drinking...she's been known to do that from time to time."  
"She was drunk, Da. She was laughing one moment, and crying the next." Reanna shuddered. "The laughing was awful," she whispered.  
He laid his head back against the pillow, thinking. So Arianne was drinking herself into a stupor now, eh? And with whiskey, no less! Whiskey! What about the rum?!  
He shook his head, remembering that WHAT Arianne was drinking wasn't as important as how much she was drinking. He had known for some time that she drank some liquor before she went to sleep at night, but he had never thought that she would drink to such excess. So this was where some of that extra money was going. When he thought about it, she had been buying more than usual for the past two years. He hadn't thought that she was so distraught that she needed to get herself drunk every night just to go to sleep, but apparently this was precisely the case.  
"Da?" he heard Reanna saying, her voice filled with worry.  
"I'm fine, darling, just thinking," he said, and realized that he had suddenly become exhausted. "Reanna, I'm tired...I think I need to go to sleep," he said, barely whispering as his eyelids slowly closed. He heard his door open and close and then knew no more.  
  
**  
  
Later, she sat on the roof again, staring up at the stars and humming the greeting. She knew that something was different about the stars this night, but she could not quite figure out what it was. She didn't feel quite as uplifted as she usually did, and Queen Moon didn't seem as happy this night as she watched her subjects dance across the great ball room that was the sky. Everything seemed lifeless, but she could not figure out why.  
She sighed, unable to unearth the memory that would tell her what was wrong, and finished humming her serenade. Then, feeling inexplicably sorrowful, she climbed back into the house and slept the last couple hours of the night away.  
  
**  
  
Mr. Gibbs lifted his mug for another toast to his new friend who bought the drinks. He was in Tortuga that night, drowning his sorrows in an ocean of rum. He was deep in his cups when a man had joined him at his solitary table and offered to buy him some more rum.  
If Mr. Gibbs had been able to see clearly beyond his own nose, he might have noticed that the man only had one eye, that he was bald, and that he seemed unnaturally interested in details about Captain Jack Sparrow.  
He was in the middle of the story of the curse of the treasure of Cortez when his new friend interrupted him and asked where Jack was now. He answered truthfully, of course, and the man smiled grimly in satisfaction. But of course, Mr. Gibbs didn't see this, nor did he suspect that anything was wrong. He even offered to show this strange new friend Jack's island and his beautiful wife and daughter.  
Then Mr. Gibbs remembered that Jack was dying and started weeping. The man waved the barkeep over to get Mr. Gibbs some more rum, asking him what was wrong. When Mr. Gibbs had spilled the entire story--what little he knew of it besides that Jack was dying due to some poison--the man nodded in sympathy and mentioned that he knew the antidotes to several different types of poison.  
He didn't know antidotes that would cure a person of the poison, but he did know how to quickly end the suffering. He grinned wickedly as poor Mr. Gibbs wept and drank his rum. He would have to remain close to this one, to befriend him--although he suspected that he was already a priceless friend for buying the drunkard all that rum. He frowned. The man seemed to absorb liquor like a sponge, it was revolting.  
When Mr. Gibbs began to sing a loud and rowdy chorus of "A Pirate's Life for Me," the seer decided that it was time to put Mr. Gibbs to sleep. He pretended to be drunk and hooked his arm under Mr. Gibbs' and led him up the stairs to a room he had previously rented for the night. The second they crossed the threshold, he broke a bottle of beer over Mr. Gibbs' head.  
  
The man dropped like a stone.  
  
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Alrighty, that's seven chapters posted in six days! Wow this is going well! To answer a question, here:  
  
Tracy-Arianne became a goddess in the second story of this trilogy, it was called The Fountain of Youth.  
  
Thanks for the reviews, guys, I'm flattered! 


	8. Heat Wave

Chapter Eight: Heat Wave  
  
She sat by the little pond on the island she called home and wiggled her toes in the water. She knew her mother would be upset if she saw what she was wearing, but she didn't care. The torn-up knee-length breeches revealed much of her shapely and well-toned legs, and she wore the shift that she wore to swim in--basically a strip of salt-toughened leather tied around her breasts.  
She wished she didn't even have to wear that much, she thought as she twisted her raven-black hair up off of her neck. It was so hot! She had lived here much of her life, so she was more used to it than most, but a heat wave seemed to be happening at the moment. In the afternoon the sands fairly steamed--even her toughened soles couldn't handle the scorching heat. Even now, barely after the sun had risen, it felt like mid-afternoon would on any normal summer day.  
Reanna had been forced to retreat from the oppressive house to try and find some way to cool herself, and she had come across the pond. Since it was shaded nearly all day due to the palm trees thickly surrounding it, the little pond remained relatively cool.  
Three days of this terrible heat had passed, each one hotter than the next, and her father was obviously growing weaker and weaker as the heat increased. It was making him dreadfully miserable, she knew, and it made her feel all the guiltier for making him suffer longer. She wished so much that her father wouldn't have to suffer so much because of her selfishness, but he claimed that he wouldn't have it any other way. Her mother was getting worse as the days passed, as well. Reanna had come to the kitchen late at night when she had finished talking to her father, and there Arianne had sat, just finishing off one of several bottles of whiskey. When Arianne had seen her, she had yelled at her to go away, and so Reanna had run from the kitchen, frightened and disturbed.  
Things were going mad around here, and there didn't seem to be anything that she could do about it.  
To top all of that off, Mr. Gibbs had brought a man home with him. The man was bald--it didn't look as though he had ever had any hair on his head--and had only the one eye. Now, Reanna had seen much stranger characters than this "Richard," as he called himself, but none had ever sent such shivers up her spine. When he thought no one was looking he smirked as though he was getting away with something fantastic.  
And the way he looked at her...she wasn't quite sure how to describe the gleam in his eye every time he looked her way, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. It gave her chills. She had asked Mr. Gibbs how he had met this Richard, and Mr. Gibbs had sworn upon his flask that the man was an old friend of Jack's and that he had simply come to pay his respects to a dying man. Mr. Gibbs had also mentioned something about this Richard knowing of some antidotes to some rather potent poisons.  
Reanna didn't believe that that was Richard's purpose, even though she was positive that Mr. Gibbs meant no harm. They had arrived in the afternoon yesterday, and even though Jack was awake at the time, Richard had refused to go in, saying he would do it "later." If he was such a good friend of her father's, she had thought, then why did he not go and speak with him while her father still had time to speak?  
No, she did not like this man at all. When she had talked to Y'lorani about him, Y'lorani had simply shrugged helplessly, reminding Reanna that she could not See the past or future for humans. Frustrated, Reanna had left to go and talk to her father before going to bed.  
Now, the very next morning before anyone had the energy to stir from their beds, she sat out here all alone, her feet in the pond as all of her thoughts and suspicions circled through her mind.  
It was so very odd that not even a week after her father had been struck down by poison a man whom he had never mentioned showed up claiming that he knew Jack and that he could cure him of the poison that was killing him. Arianne had thrown a fit when Mr. Gibbs had brought a stranger to the island at such a terrible time, but had grown hopeful when she had found out what he claimed.  
Reanna shook her head. She knew that if her father hadn't been dying her mother would have thrown the man off the island herself.  
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard footsteps coming closer to her, and so she didn't make the intruder aware of her presence she stopped moving her feet in the water and sat perfectly still. The trees should cover her unless the person was coming to the pond itself, but she very much doubted that anyone else came here besides her. She hadn't even thought that anyone would be up yet. The heat tended to make people sleepy.  
  
When the footsteps walked past her, she quietly pulled her feet out of the water and peered through the trees to see who it was that was out and about this early. When she saw the bald head she shuddered in revulsion. What was he doing out here? And walking towards her cliff, no less! Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. If only there was more cover on this blasted isle! She couldn't follow him for fear of being seen, and she couldn't leave her grove until he was out of sight.  
Apparently he was in no hurry to get to where he was going.  
  
The temperature felt like it had risen ten degrees by the time the man had finally begun his climb up the cliff. Reanna was nearly falling asleep on her feet from the boredom and heat, and was relieved that she could finally move from her protective cover of trees back to the house.  
She ran back, knowing that she would regret doing so once she reached her goal, but she could not risk being seen as a threat to Richard. She didn't know why she felt so strongly about this, but she also knew that she would be absolutely foolish not to take precautions.  
As she finally entered the house, she thought that it seemed too still to be full of people. She shook it off, thinking that perhaps it was simply the heavy weight of the hot air. They were all likely trying to sleep off the heat. Reanna decided then that she would go and see if her father was awake, since it appeared that no one else was.  
When she entered the dark room, she knew immediately and without any doubt whatsoever that something was indeed wrong. She drew the curtains back from the windows rather than light a candle, and when she saw that Jack was lying on his side, apparently sleeping, she tried to laugh off her immediate instinct that something was wrong.  
The laugh came out as a shrill, shaky monstrosity, and when her father did not stir, she felt as though a weight had been dropped on her chest. She walked over to him and rolled him onto his back, and when she saw the grinning and bloody cut across his throat she screamed, breaking the spell that had seemed to hold the house in utter stillness.  
  
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Yeep! Don't hurt me! *hides under a chair to prevent the Jack Sparrow- lovers from hurting her because she just killed the best character in PotC*  
  
Mae-Yeah, I've actually written two other stories--Arianne and The Fountain of Youth. This one is actually the last story in the trilogy. I hope, lol. I never intended to write another fan fiction after I had finished Arianne, but my muse insisted, and so I did! I THOUGHT that The Fountain of Youth would be last one then, but, as you can obviously tell, it was not, lol.  
  
Vuzznut-I'm glad you like this! I do too, actually, a heck of a lot better than I liked FoY, heh. Thanks for your support!  
  
Rin-Thanks again for your reviews, I'm so very flattered that you got choked up when Jack got sick, I'm glad you like this so much!  
  
Thank you all! 


	9. Ice

Chapter Nine: Ice  
  
Elves as well as crew members flocked into the room to see what all the ruckus was about. When Arianne arrived--last--she had to elbow her way through more people than the little room was ever meant to hold. What she saw first was Reanna standing stock-still, as though she were a statue.  
"Well what the bloody hell did you go screaming for..." she started, but stopped when she saw Jack, saw the wide grin stretching from ear to ear across his neck. "Oh gods," she murmured. "Oh gods, it can't be...it's not..." Then she fainted away.  
Reanna, too frozen with horror at her father's death, did not catch her mother as she fell. Nor did she move when the dull thud of her hitting the floor reached her ears. She didn't react to anything, she couldn't. Her heart was a frozen lump in her chest, blood seemed to stop circulating through her body, her muscles would not respond to give her limbs the strength even to run away.  
This was all too horrible. She knew that people were scurrying to and fro, each going around her, but she found that she couldn't find the will to care. Her father was dead. Captain Jack Sparrow, the greatest pirate in the Caribbean--nay, the entire world--was dead.  
And she couldn't even cry. No, not even that mercy was allowed her to vent her grief. All she could do was slowly turn about and leave the room, then the house altogether. She knew who had done it. He had been the only one besides her up and about so early this morning, had he not? But still she could not find the tiniest spark of feeling within her. She was numb to everything.  
A voice called her name, but she ignored it, continuing to walk towards the cliff that she had so triumphantly dived from only a week before. He had gone there. But she wasn't angry. The fires that were her fury would not ignite. The ice held her heart fast in its grip, not allowing the slightest bit of warmth enter it. Her eyes were dry, though she knew that she should be helpless with tears.  
When she reached the bluff and started climbing, she felt hands try to pull her down, but she batted them away as though they were flies. When they grabbed her ankles she kicked in a perfunctory sort of manner to free herself. They begged her not to do it, though what they thought she was going to do she did not know. All she wanted was to talk to the bald man a little. That was all.  
She knew that they were following her as she climbed farther and farther up, but she did not care. When she reached the top, though, there was no one there. He must have fled, a little voice in her mind told her. He knew what he had done, that he would be suspected, and so he had fled.  
She laughed, then. An awful sounding thing it was, devoid of any recognizable emotion. The ones that had followed her shuddered at the sound of it. They put their hands on her and no longer did she resist when they told her to come back to the house with them. She went quietly, if unfeelingly.  
  
Her mother was awake when she returned, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything right now. There was nothing to care about now that her father was gone. She did, of course, notice the resentful glares her mother sent her way, but she felt nothing and so simply stared back, her face and eyes an absolute blank.  
Her mother paled at the look on her daughter's face and looked away. She was happy to look at anything that wasn't the awful visage Reanna presented to her. Arianne talked to the elves and the crew, telling them that the funeral would be in Port Royal, but that Jack's body would be brought back here to be buried.  
Reanna felt something, then. It was as though she took a tiny sip of the great and endless waters of grief. She could not quite dispel the ice that resided in her heart, but she felt all the same.  
"No," she heard her voice saying. Arianne and everyone she was talking to turned their gazes towards Reanna. "No, the funeral will not be in Port Royal. And he will not be buried on land. He didn't want that."  
Arianne grew angry then. "And who are you to say such things to me, you wretched creature?!" she shouted. Reanna felt a tiny spark of flame kindle in anger within her. Everyone else simply looked on in shock at their captain's wife or at their goddess. "You, who ran away when he was struck down, who ran away when he was dead! How dare you dictate to me, the woman who knows him best, who was here for him when he needed me!"  
"Unlike some people, I came back," Reanna replied, her anger finally intensifying enough that she could vent it. She reveled in the heat it produced, melting the ice that had gripped her in its hand. "I came back while you kept running, drowning in oceans of whiskey! I helped bring him back to life, even if it was only going to be for a week. I spoke to him whenever he was strong enough. I am his daughter! I would know just as well as you, if not better, what he would have wanted, and I tell you that this is it!"  
Arianne simply stared, her mouth open. Reanna had never yelled at her like this before, she had never before so thoroughly lost her temper. When her anger at her daughter took hold again, she opened her mouth but was interrupted by Y'lorani.  
"The girl speaks truth, Arianne."  
"What do you mean?" Arianne spat.  
"Jack would wish that his body be commended to the sea. He would have hated being buried on land when most of his life belonged to the sea. I Saw his funeral long ago, and Reanna speaks rightly of how it should go."  
Arianne opened her mouth to attack Y'lorani's word, but Y'lorani beat her to it.  
"If you had gone to his room when he was able to talk as your daughter did, he would have told you the same thing." Y'lorani's silver eyes held unending depths of disappointment as she stared at her goddess.  
Arianne looked around at all the people gathered, disbelief etched on her face as she realized that the entirety of the assembly agreed with Reanna and Y'lorani. "Fine!" she shouted. "Fine!"  
She left to find some whiskey to wet her throat and dull the pain of being shown as a horrible creature next to her unflawed diamond of a daughter.  
It was a bitter thing, indeed.  
  
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Alrighty, another chapter...I hope you guys aren't too angry at me! It was necessary to kill Jack.  
  
Reason 1: It really wasn't fair to him that I was changing his personality to fit my story. Reason 2: My muse is picky...and this way you get to see the full degeneration of Arianne's sanity as well as how Reanna deals with grief and anger.  
  
Thank you all for reading, I very much appreciate it, and I hope you all review with your opinions! 


	10. The Funeral

Chapter Ten: The Funeral  
  
As soon as the confrontation was over and most of the assembled people had dispersed, Reanna felt the ice coming back to trap her in its frozen depths. It was just as well, she thought bleakly. She would have to sing her father into the sea, and it wouldn't do for her voice to be occluded by tears. At least the ice wasn't so thick this time that she couldn't feel anything.  
Although she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to feel what she felt at the moment, anyway. She was exhausted and she felt heavy, as though she carried a great weight upon her shoulders.  
Pur'a'ti was cleaning up Jack's wound and doing his best to preserve Jack's body and prevent it from beginning to decay too much in the vastly oppressive heat. One relief, at least, was that the heat seemed to be lifting. This night was much cooler than past nights had been and carried a hint of moisture in the air. It actually felt like a normal late summer night.  
In a way, she was insulted that the weather was so calm in the wake of her father's death. It should be raining, at the least. Why did things work out that way? In stories it was always told that when people died they died on "a stormy night," or some such nonsense. Further proof that the weather cared not for the fate of mortals.  
She ran a hand over her face, trying hard to keep her eyes open as she stood on the dock. She was bone-tired, but she felt that if she were to go to sleep that she would somehow dishonor her father.  
His funeral would be in the morning, and as of yet she hadn't quite decided what song she would sing to him. Perhaps "A Pirate's Life for Me," as it had been his favorite song in life. She knew that her mother would be very insulted that she would sing such a spirited song on her father's final journey, but there was nothing that seemed so fitting as that song.  
Besides, she cared little for her mother's opinion anymore after what had happened earlier. Of course Reanna knew that her mother was stressed, that her life was falling apart around her and that there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it, but in Reanna's opinion that was no excuse to do the things she had done. She had abandoned Jack in the time when he had needed most to speak with her. She had called her daughter--who Arianne had once loved so dearly--a "wretched creature," and she undoubtedly thought that Reanna deserved to be marooned on a deserted island somewhere.  
Reanna sighed deeply, feeling as though the entire weight of the world was on her shoulders. So this was what it felt like to have a broken heart, she thought to herself. But it felt more like her heart and soul had both been dashed to the ground and then tromped on until they were quite flattened. Life had been so good until her father had been struck down by that damned poison.  
Before she knew what was happening she was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, tears streaming down her face. The grief had built up over the past week so much that even the ice that kept creeping up on her and immobilizing every emotion could not stand against it. She cried through the rest of the night.  
  
When morning came, Reanna was found still sitting on the dock, but she had fallen asleep. Everyone thought it too unkind to wake her before everything was ready, as most of them had seen her crying as though she would break in two the night before.  
The ship was bedecked with black ribbons, and a black flag was hoisted. The crew all wore as much black as they owned--which wasn't much, but their tribute to their well-loved captain was touching--and the elves wore their mourning grey.  
A puffy-eyed and bleary Reanna was finally wakened by Y'lorani and Dharketh, and they both helped her back to her room so that she could get dressed. They passed Arianne's room along the way, and Y'lorani and Dharketh shared a sorrowful glance with each other at the disgrace their goddess had come to. Reanna didn't look up but trudged past the door wearily.  
Reanna herself picked out a pair of grey pants and a white shirt before she plunged her body in a tub full of tepid water. The water seemed to revive her somewhat, and she dressed with more energy than she had showed all morning, though more tears threatened to spill over her cheeks more than once.  
She knew she had to compose herself if she was going to sing her father's favorite song in a tempo and with an enthusiasm--albeit feigned-- that would do it justice.  
  
As Reanna left the house, Arianne stumbled out of her room, haphazardly dressed and obviously in the middle of a roaring hangover. Little was going through the woman's mind besides the fact that she needed more whiskey to make this dreadful headache go away, and somehow she managed to find some and drink it without breaking the bottle in her fumbling attempts to get it open.  
Not even bothering to change out of the clothes that reeked of liquor, Arianne staggered her way down to the ship, which was preparing to make way with the guest of honor already on board.  
She made it up the gangplank--barely, and that with help--and went over to Jack's body. Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes and she kissed his cold, pale forehead. "Goo' bye, love," she slurred, "I' 'ever ferget ye."  
  
When the boat was far enough at sea that the island could barely be seen on the horizon, Reanna stood by the railing at the fore of the ship and began to sing: Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.  
  
We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot,  
  
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho.  
  
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot,  
  
Drink up me hearties, yo ho...  
She sang the song in its entirety, and with as much exuberance as could be expected at the funeral of her beloved father. Towards the end, the song sounded more like a dirge--which it was--and the last chorus was sung so softly that the assembly of elves and crew could barely hear it, though they all felt that it was very appropriate for the good old Captain Jack.  
His body was commended to the sea, and all shed tears of grief. All except Reanna. She simply stood on the deck and watched as the sea swallowed her father, unable to cry any more. At least for now. For now, she wished her father's soul farewell and hoped that he would be happy in his afterlife.  
She said goodbye.  
  
************************************************************************ Two in one day for the second time this week--cool! *is so proud of herself!* Lol, ok, I'm gonna go away now, love you all! 


	11. The Voyage Begins

Chapter Eleven: The Voyage Begins  
  
Some weeks after Jack had died, Reanna was finally getting on her way to find the man that had killed him. He had not been seen again on the isle after that fateful morning, and Reanna burned with eagerness to find him and to make him answer for what he had done. She knew a very good place to start.  
A few of the original members of the crew had left, feeling that they were unable to serve under their old captain's daughter, and Reanna said good riddance to them. They were the general trouble-makers anyway. No doubt they would join some other ill-reputed pirate ship. The only thing that had kept them aboard the Pearl this long was the fact that Jack Sparrow had either saved their lives or learned a dreadful secret about them that they wished to remain secret.  
Ah well. There were some elves that were willing to join the crew, including Y'lorani. Dharketh had decided to remain behind with Arianne, and that was just as well also. Reanna knew that Arianne hadn't meant most of the things she had been saying--she was constantly drunk anymore, anyway-- and she would prefer that someone reliable stay behind to watch over her.  
Haramel and Pur'a'ti had also decided to come along, much to Reanna's surprise. As far as she knew, neither of the pair had ever had anything to do with running a ship, but they were apparently willing to learn if it meant that they could stay beside Reanna. Someone, after all, had to help keep her wild magical energies under control.  
Reanna was very happy that Ana Maria had chosen to stay on board as well. She was the only human female that Reanna knew--as well as the only one that Reanna cared to know--well, and Ana Maria knew nearly as much about the ship as Reanna herself did.  
She felt exhilarated that she was finally going to do something. These past weeks with her mother had been exhausting as well as infuriating, especially since there was no Jack to soothe the wounds her mother's verbal arrows caused. Reanna would sleep much better at sea, and soon the sting of the cruel comments would be forgotten. What she lived through would only make her stronger, right? Well then, she should be tough as stone after the events of the past month.  
And soon she would be seventeen! When the next full moon lit the sky, she would finally be seventeen. She did a quick calculation to figure out how many days were left. Nine more days. Nine more days and she would be officially considered an adult--not that she didn't look the part.  
She had grown much from the skinny little girl with a black mop of hair. She was taller than a lot of women she knew--including her mother-- and no one quite knew how that had come about, as both of her parents were relatively short. She had long legs--quite good for getting a running start for a dive off of a cliff. She grinned at the horrified expression her mother had had on her face the first time she had done it. That had been five or six years ago. Even from then her figure had much improved. She had breasts--much to her dismay--which proved to be more of a hindrance to her than anything else. Her hair was long and silky, the color of a raven's wings, and when the sun shone down on it, it tended to give off a green or bluish hue. Haramel delighted in styling Reanna's hair.  
She smiled wryly. Haramel wouldn't have much opportunity to play with Reanna's hair now. For the most part she would have it in a no-nonsense braid or bun to keep it off of her face. At least she wasn't going to be wearing a hat. That would have horrified Haramel more than anything.  
She took a deep breath as she stood at the fore of the deck. The flurry of activity to get the ship prepared for departure had lulled for the moment, and Reanna took this opportunity to enjoy the salty breeze teasing random strands out of her braid. As she stood there, she found herself thinking of her father, and instead of feeling a well of furious mourning, she felt content. His heart would have burst with pride at seeing her captain his ship. Perhaps he did see her now, wherever he was. She smiled, happy for the first time since the day she had successfully dived from that high cliff.  
Her father would be so proud.  
  
The ship was ready. At long last, she would take the helm of this, the greatest ship in the entire world. She said her goodbyes to Dharketh and her mother, and then she stepped aboard her ship--her ship! She was about to set sail in her very own ship! She couldn't help but shiver with excitement at the prospect.  
The crew was all gathered on the deck, awaiting her orders. She looked them over for a moment, judging how loyal to her and to the ship they would be, and liked what she saw--for the most part. There were a few that she feared wouldn't stick to the code and would some day betray her, but she would not treat them any different than the other members of the crew just for her suspicions.  
Finally, she took a deep breath and shouted out the various orders, watching everyone scatter to do her bidding. She was finally leaving the shadows her mother and father had cast over her to begin a new life.  
She laughed into the wind.  
  
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Alrighty, sorry this chapter was so short, I couldn't think of any more that would really be appropriate in this specific section. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway! I sure did. Thanks to the readers and reviewers, I very much appreciate your contributions, and I could always use more reviews, so give me your thoughts!  
  
Elkengrove: you have not been a bad reviewer, and of course I forgive you for being behind--I do realize that people have lives, lol! You've been one of my most faithful reviewers and I so very much appreciate it. *muah!* 


	12. Information Wrangling

Chapter Twelve: Information Wrangling  
  
When the ship docked in Tortuga, Reanna pulled Mr. Gibbs aside. "Mr. Gibbs, I would like for you to take me to the bar where you met your friend."  
"Aye, Captain, but I ain't entirely sure which one it was. I was kicked outta several places that night." The man looked sheepish. "I don't rightly remember what all I said, either."  
Reanna sighed. Mr. Gibbs' drinking problem was quite the nuisance, but he had been one of her father's most loyal crew members, so she felt she owed him a certain amount of tolerance. She checked her belt pouch, and found it to be relatively full. "Come on then," she said, more than a bit of irritation coloring her tone. "We'll visit them all if we have to."  
Indeed they did have to enter every tavern that Mr. Gibbs had been kicked out of, and in order for Reanna to get any information out of the bartenders she had to buy a drink. The first time this happened, she actually tasted the rum, and was so revolted by the swill that she instead gave it to Mr. Gibbs. From that point on, she let Mr. Gibbs drink what she had to buy in order to get the information. Most of the stories were the same, Mr. Gibbs had been there, he had been drinking alone, had too much, and so the bar tenders kicked him out.  
By the time they had left the tenth bar, Mr. Gibbs was staggeringly drunk and her purse was growing ever thinner. It was just as well that Reanna had gotten the names of all the bars out of him before they had ever left the ship. Finally entering the last tavern that Mr. Gibbs had indicated, Reanna was decidedly tired of buying him drinks. She instead walked straight up to the bartender and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.  
"You had better tell me what I want to know," she growled, "And I'm bloody well not going to buy any of your foul liquor unless you have some damned good information for me."  
The man stared at her, dumbfounded. Who was this woman? He had never seen her in here before, and his bar got quite a bit of pirates. She must be a new one, he mused, and from her attitude she was a captain as well. His friends would be interested to know this, but first he had to survive her apparent wrath.  
"Whaddya wanna know?" he asked.  
"You see my friend here, right?" she asked, deceptively sweet.  
"Yeh, I remember him, he comes here a lot. Hasn' bin here in a while, though."  
"The last time he was here, was he drinking alone?"  
"Nah, firs' time I'd seen him with anyone other than that Jack Sparrow character. This 'un was a weirdo, totally bald and only had one eye, and bought yer friend's drinks. Didn' even cover up the empty socket with a patch."  
"Yes, and when did they leave?" she asked, her eyes sparking with something that the poor man could not name.  
"They didn', the creep bought a room and took 'im upstairs. Didn' see 'em again 'til the next mornin'."  
"Have you seen that man since that night?"  
"Yeah, matter o' fact I have, what's it to ye?"  
She shook the man a little and then brought his face close to her own. "I want to know everything you know about the man," she snarled.  
"Why?" the bartender asked, more frightened than he had been before.  
"Because he nixed certain...friend...of mine, and I'd like to ask him a few questions. Not that I needed to give you that information. Now tell me everything you know!" she said, nearly shouting and puncuating the last six words with violent shakes of the man's body.  
Just wanting the crazy woman--and what female pirate wasn't crazy?-- to let go of him, he told everything he knew, albeit that wasn't much. The man kept pretty much to himself--even drank alone except the one time he had bought the lady pirate's friend all that rum.  
When she left--without buying a drink--the bartender grew angry that he had been manhandled by a mere woman. Sure, it was easy enough for her to waltz into a bar and catch a man off guard, but what if she were surrounded by men a foot taller than she was and strong to boot? He would definitely have to tell his friends about this new woman pirate, he thought to himself as his patrons mocked him for how easily he had given up what little he knew.  
His friends should enjoy having their way with such a lovely woman, and they would reward him well for his tip-off.  
  
Reanna took Mr. Gibbs back to the Pearl, not trusting him to find his own way back without first stopping at every bar along the way and telling anyone who would listen about the night's work. It was bad enough that she had had to go into so many places where many people were drinking themselves stupid, but none of them knew who she was and she didn't want anyone finding out before she was ready for them to know. Mr. Gibbs would undoubtedly spill the whole tale of how Jack had died and left his one and only daughter his ship...Reanna shuddered.  
After leaving Mr. Gibbs in the capable hands of Ana Maria and the elves, she went back into the odoriferous city. She had inherited her mother's fastidiousness and hated the smelly and stickiness of the wretches that populated the isle, but at the same time she felt elated that she walekd among them and not an eye turned towards her that wasn't curious as to who this newcomer was.  
Of course, she had been to Tortuga before...but her father had never let her step foot of his ship in the duration of the stay. She explored the various streets and alleys, bars and brothels, hardly looking for anything in particular. Several hours later--it was well into the night and Tortuga was just beginning to liven up--she saw a bald head in the crowd milling through the streets. She attempted to follow, but when it turned into an alley she lost it.  
As she stood in the middle of the dead end alley, trying to figure out where the person could possibly have disappeared to, she heard several footsteps come up behind her. Turning, she found that she was confronted by six tall men with bulging muscles. They all glared down at her menacingly, and some made lewd faces at her. She kept her face calm, but inwardly she was panicking. They were blocking the only exit! How was she supposed to get past these hulking brutes?  
She swallowed nervously as one of them stepped towards her, reaching a giant hand out as though to grab her.  
  
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Oooh, bad me, lol! What a cliffhanger! Poor Reanna, what will happen to her now? 'Twould be a shame if she were to die before she found Jack's murderer, eh? Well, you guys are just going to have to wait to find out! Lol! 


	13. And Your Name Is?

Chapter Thirteen: And Your Name Is...?  
  
She found herself involuntarily moving back, away from the gigantic paw that reached for her. As her mind raced with endless possibilities, she finally landed on one that should stall them enough that she could move around them into the open.  
"And just who might you gentlemen be?" she asked, ceasing to back away from the huge man. His hand stopped moving forward and she took a deep breath of relief.  
"'Oo we are ain't important, litt' missy," one of the other men said. "What's important is that ye've caused some trouble fer our friend down in the House o' Rum. Seein' as ye're new an' all, we thought we'd come and make yer acquaintance and give ye a proper greetin'."  
"Ah," Reanna replied. Thinking she saw how she might get through them, she reached out and shook the hand that still hung before her. "Well it's lovely to meet you, I'm Reanna. I really am new here, and it's so nice of you boys to come and give me a proper welcome."  
By the time she had finished her little speech, she had moved to the last man in the group and smoothly slipped by him, waving a farewell as she walked away. She was going to head back to the Pearl, thinking that she might have actually gotten away with it, but before she even reached the end of the street, she heard several people shouting in indignation behind her as the six brutes pushed past them to get to her.  
She loosened her sword in her scabbard, praying that it was as reliable as all of Will Turner's other swords were. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and drew her sword in one fluid motion, seeming to surprise the few sober people on the street as well as the men that were hurrying to catch up to her. They stopped just out of her reach, glancing warily from her to her blade. They carried no weapons save their hands, and they knew that if they decided to close that more than one of them was going to get hurt, if not killed.  
And, as this was Tortuga, the woman would get away with it if she killed one or more of them here.  
Reanna registered their every expression, carefully watched their every move. She did not wish to be caught off guard, for that would mean certain defeat--as she had learned at the hands of Will Turner--who had forged her sword--her father, and her mother. All three were expert swordsmen (except for Arianne, who was a woman), and Jack had much experience using anything and everything that could possibly help in the fight. Reanna hadn't grown nearly as proficient as her father in that area, but she could fend off most things and if she had no choice she would take up whatever she could find to defend herself.  
She watched as the men conferred with each other, realizing that they were indeed slightly smarter than she would have taken them for. She cursed under her breath when two of the men went inside the nearest bar, coming out with mostly cudgels and a couple of swords. Now the fight clearly favored them, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter, it seemed.  
Well, she thought, if she was going to fight an obviosly unfair fight, then she would do it on her own ground. She pivoted on one foot and then ran towards one of the most central parts of Tortuga, thinking that it would be the best place for her to get a slight advantage over these hulking brutes. Reanna heard the men behind her cursing as they ran, trying rather unsuccessfully to keep up with the faster long-legged woman.  
Apparently she hadn't paying enough attention to which way she was running, as she found out to her utter despair when she nearly ran into a solid brick wall. "Damn!" she shouted in frustration. She turned to run another direction, but had nowhere to go as the group closed in on her. If she had been the praying type, she might have done so right then, but she instead took a deep breath and slowed her breathing, bringing her heart rate back to a more normal pace. She faced the oncoming men and raised her sword, calculating where best to strike first.  
She stood perfectly still while they circled around her warily, wondering why this strange person would flee only to run to a dead end and then offer no fight. One man could finally stand it no longer and charged Reanna from behind, his cudgel raised for a fatal blow to her head.  
He was more than a little startled when she wasn't there when he swung his weapon down, and so it hit the ground with a resounding smack, leaving him bent and vulnerable to an attack. He didn't even know what had hit him when her sword--edge first--slammed down on the back of his neck, snapping his spine and killing him instantly.  
The other men stood stock-still, staring in shock at their dead companion as their quarry wiped the blood on her sword on her shirt. They realized that they should probably flee, but the sight of their companion's corpse infuriated them to a point that their fear fled and all they could think about was killing the woman for what she had done. Sure, their companion had been aiming to kill her, but that was no excuse for killing him so quickly!  
They all charged at the same time, but this time Reanna did not dodge- -she simply ducked and skittered out between two of the men while they beat each other with their weapons in their search for her. By the time they realized what she had done, she was moving around them, knocking them one by one on the back of the head so they dropped, unconscious. The five living men lay senseless, a heap of dirty flesh and worn clothes.  
  
He watched from a distance, amazed at the woman's prowess. When she had finished knocking the five living men unconscious, she stared at them for a moment and then walked away, seeming dispassionate for someone who had killed a man. He could tell that she was new to this place, that she was new to killing, but he was pleased by her seeming numbness at the fact that she had just killed a man. He was also immensely pleased by her skill. The woman was fast, faster than anyone he'd seen since the Golden Eagle.  
He had been but a small boy of no more than four years when he had first--and last--seen the Golden Eagle fight. She had been amazing in his young eyes, weaving in and out of a group of men, never harming them with anything more than the flat of her sword. But now, twenty years later...this woman--in his mind he nicknamed her the Emerald Raven for her eyes and hair--was very possibly even more skilled than the Eagle had been.  
  
Certainly even more beautiful, though he had thought the Eagle the most beautiful woman he had ever seen until now.  
As he mused, she walked right past him, her face completely expressionless, her eyes empty as though she saw nothing before her. He ran to catch up.  
  
"Hey!" she heard behind her, but it seemed to be a very distant thing, all the sounds around her seemed removed in the aftermath of the fight. When someone grabbed her arm, she whirled, her still unsheathed sword swinging just above the offender's head. When she realized that this was no enemy, but was, in fact, a rather handsome man (if not entirely clean) with a friendly smile on his face.  
"I saw what happened," he said when she had put her sword away, "and I would like to buy you a drink for your bravery and skill. Might I know your name?"  
"Reanna," she replied, coming out of her daze. "And your name is...?"  
  
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Oooh, who is this mysterious man that has come from nowhere? Find out, in the next chapter of Reanna! (Hmm...or perhaps I'll drag this out for a few more chapters, what do you think?) ;) I hope you all enjoyed this, let me know what you thought of the fight scene. 


	14. Damn It All

Chapter Fourteen: Damn It All

            She looked at the stranger whose name was...well, she couldn't remember what his name was at the moment. She finished off her mug for the eighth--or was it the ninth? tenth?--time. The man was getting decidedly more blurry with each swig of rum, which he kindly bought all of as she filled the emptiness she felt at killing someone with rum. 

            "So...ye saw...th' 'ole thing?" she asked. Part of her realized she had asked for about the thousandth time. 

            He smiled at her, and she was so sodden with rum that she didn't realize that it was more of a tolerant smile than one that held any actual pleasure in it. "Yes, I saw the whole thing. You were quite dashing, my darling Raven."

            She smiled drunkenly at him, then a look of mock seriousness fell over her face. "Now 'old it righ' there, mister..." she started, shaking her finger at him. Whatever she had been about to say next was forestalled by her head thunking down on the table as she fell unconscious. 

            Devon shook his head, amused by this Reanna Sparrow. Yes, he knew who she was. It had been rather simple to figure it out after he had found out that the Pearl was in the harbor. He had heard about Jack's death some time ago--word travelled fast in Tortuga, and when a strange new female pirate had suddenly appeared at the same time as the Pearl...well, it hadn't been difficult to guess at the identity of this woman who shook up bartenders and invited the wrath of their usually powerful patrons. 

            Not that she couldn't handle it, he mused as he thought back on the amazing show of prowess she had shown earlier. Well...she probably couldn't handle it right at this moment, he thought as he saw three rather large men enter the bar. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. He had to get her out of here before they saw her or noticed him. 

            He pulled his hood up and picked his little Raven up from her rather awkward position half on and half off of the table. Covering her hair with a fold of his cloak, he unobtrusively left the bar when the hulking giants reached the counter.

**

            "She's not there," stated one of the men rather dumbly. Of course she wasn't there--anyone could see that no one was at the table that the strange man and his beautiful companion had been at. 

            The smartest of the three men--and he was barely that--grabbed the bartender and pulled the man to within an inch of his snarling visage. "Where'd she go?"

            "I don't know!" the frightened--and much smaller--man cried. "They were there right before you came in, the man had just bought another rum for his lady friend!" To the large man's credit, it only took him about thirty seconds to realize that the pair couldn't have gotten far. He dropped the bartender, who looked immensely relieved that the trio was going to leave him alone. 

            Sadly, the trio of giants were not smart enough to realize that in the time it had taken them to figure out that the two they searched for couldn't have gotten far, their quarry had already reached the docks. 

**

            Devon looked down at Reanna's face, conflicting feelings battling within him. He had known that she was the daughter of Jack Sparrow, but the fact that she was the Golden Eagle's daughter as well...somehow the gossip had missed the fact that Jack had married Arianne. He sighed. He had two choices. He could claim that he had never found her, or he could take her where he had been told to. 

            He cursed as he stared at her flawless face, relaxed in sleep. She wasn't supposed to be beautiful, damn it! Most of the people he was paid to bring to whatever employer hired him were men, and the women were nothing but worthless whores. He had never had any qualms about leaving the prisoners with his various employers as long as he got paid. 

            But now...the girl was only sixteen--seventeen in two days, he reminded himself--and why did his employer want her so badly anyway? After all the rum she had drank, she had spilled her life story like seive would spill water. She had never stepped off the ship when her father brought her to Tortuga, and the only isle she had ever really visited often was the island that held Port Royal. Even there, the only people she had much association with were the Turners and her grandmother, who had been remarried to the governor about fifteen years before. As far as he knew, the girl's real grandfather was still imprisoned due to insanity. 

            When he finally looked up from his lovely Raven's face to his surroundings, he discovered that he had reached the docks. Instead of heading to his own ship, he reluctantly turned towards the Black Pearl, his decision made. He knew this would mean that he would be severely punished, for several people had seen him buying the girl drinks, and a couple had undoubtedly seen him pick her up and leave the bar with her in his arms. His pay would be severely docked as well if he chose to honor the contract and bring her in later. 

            He cursed himself. He had always been a sucker for a pretty face, and this one was a beauty. He had a reputation for occasionally soliciting the prostitutes and he was a known charmer. Well, for once he himself had been charmed, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked it. It was as though he had been struck blind, and instead of his other senses being sharpened, they had gone dead as well. It was as if all he could smell was the salty scent of her hair, which was surprisingly soft for a seafarer. 

            _Damn it all, _he thought to himself. _I'm going to regret this in the morning._

            When he finally reached the Black Pearl, he took one last look at her face and kissed her lips lightly. "Farewell for now, my Emerald Raven. I pray we shall meet again."

            He then called up to whomever was on duty and laid her down, backing away into the shadows where he could watch and make sure nothing untoward happened to her. 

            When a woman came down and saw who it was laying on the dock, she called up to the boat asking for help. It wasn't until she had been carried up the gangplank that the shadows Devon had occupied were simply shadows once more. 

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I send many many MANY thanks to Sarah Sparrow (who likely hasn't read this yet, but oh well!) who told me how to get the italics and such to stay when I load it onto ff.net! I'll be editing the other...thirteen...chapters...later...oh god...-.-' S'pose I better get to work on that, eh? 

Thanks again to Elkengrove for reviewing the last chapter...it's a damn good thing I accept anonymous reviews now, eh?


	15. Hangover

Chapter Fifteen: Hangover

            When Reanna woke the next morning, she felt unbelievably ill. The moment she tried to sit up it felt as though a spike was driven through her head. _Gods above,_ she asked herself, _what the bloody hell did I do last night?_

            The memory returned in a flood. She had been chased by six hulking giants...and then she had...she had...killed one of them. She had killed a man heartlessly, without a thought. What about the other five men, though? Ah, yes...them she had only knocked senseless. She seemed to remember that after the fight, she had been met by...by whom? She could remember what he had looked like, but what was his name? _Damn, damn, and damn again! _she cursed to herself. 

            He had bought her rum, and in order to rid herself of the oddly hollow feeling she had from killing that man, she had drained the mug dry in spite of the horrid taste of the cheap liquor.  The second mug had gone down easier, and the third one easier still. She had had several more mugs full of the stuff and had bee floating in a gloriously fuzzy world in which she understood little, but then she couldn't remember any more.   

            How had she gotten back to her ship, anyway? For this was her cabin, she knew it by the smell even though she held her eyes tightly closed in fear of another lance of pain through her head should she open them again. She must have passed out, she decided. But how had she gotten here...? Perhaps the man she had been drinking with had brought her back...she would have to thank him. 

            But what was the man's thrice-damned name?! How in bloody hell could she thank him when she couldn't even remember his name? Frustrated tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slowly trickled down into her ears. She hated that feeling, and braved the danger of sitting up if only to get rid of the tickling wetness. 

            The pain was still intense, but it had lessened somewhat. _Bloody fool,_ she called herself. Last night had been her first real experience with drinking, and what had she done? Downed approximately a gallon. She had a horrid taste in her mouth, and as she ran her tongue over her teeth they felt decidedly fuzzy. 

            She cracked open her eyes and made her way over to a cabinet to find one of the mint sticks she had stocked up on to avoid morning breath. Someone had mercifully placed dark curtains over her windows, for which she wished whomever had done so many thousands of thanks. When she staggered over to the cabinet--the ship rocking gently beneath her feet caused her endless amounts of trouble--she noticed that her little clock said that it was ten. She knew right away that it was ten in the morning, she had a good sense for things like that. 

            Fumbling, she got the wretched drawer open and pulled out one of the sticks, rubbing it over her teeth and discarding it. She grabbed another one and popped it into her mouth to chew on as she made her shaky way back to bed. 

            She cringed when her door opened, letting rays of dreadful sunlight enter her dark haven. _I must have made some noise, _she thought miserably. When she finally dared to crack her eyes open again, she saw Ana Maria standing beside her bed. 

            "Captain, I see you're awake," she said, smiling widely.

            Reanna scowled up at her.

            Anamaria's grin stretched wider. "So you went out to enjoy the wonders of Tortuga, and then drank too much, eh?" the woman asked softly, much to Reanna's relief.

            "No," Reanna squawked in reply, and stopped talking abruptly at the sound of her voice. 

            "Here," Ana Maria said, holding a flask to her lips.

            "It's not rum, is it?" 

            "No, fresh water. Drink it."

            Reanna took a sip, and discovered that she was ravenously thirsty. She drained the sizable flask. "No, I didn't go out to enjoy Tortuga, Ana Maria. I was searching for the bastard that killed my father." 

            Ana Maria raised a brow in disbelief. "Then why is it that when we found you on the dock you were passed out, reeking of rum?"

            Reanna would have growled, but she could not quite find the energy now that her thirst was slaked. Instead, she simply explained. "After I brought Mr. Gibbs back, I went out to get to know the streets of the town better. Well, I thought I saw the bloody bastard that killed Da, and so I followed him, but he disappeared into an alley. I had followed him into the alley--which, to my utter disgust, was completely empty save for myself--and then these six gigantic men blocked my way out."

            As Reanna talked, she found that the memory came back clearer and was able to give Ana Maria more details of her surroundings. As she progressed, she saw Ana Maria nodding thoughtfully. At the part where Reanna had killed one of the brutes, the older woman gave her a look of sympathy. 

            "And then this man appeared out of nowhere, offering to buy me a drink," Reanna finished. 

            She must have had a slightly lovestruck expression, because Ana Maria slyly asked, "And what did this man look like?"

            "Well, he was about a head taller than me, he had long, dark brown hair--it was braided and fell nearly halfway down his back. His eyes were amazing, they were just a couple shades darker brown than my father's. He was lean, well-toned, he's got to be the most gorgeous man I've ever met. He said he wanted to buy me a drink for my bravery." 

            When she looked back at Ana Maria, the woman was staring intently at her. 

            "What?" she asked, confused.

            "And, perchance, did he tell you his name?" she asked dully.

            "Yes, but I can't remember! It's so damned frustrating! But he was very charming."

            "Devon," Ana Maria said, spitting the name as though it had a foul taste to it. 

            "Yes, that's it! That's his name!" Reanna exclaimed. "But...why did you say it like that?"

            "He's a bloody bounty hunter, Captain," Ana Maria replied dismally. "Men--and occasionally women--pay him to catch people that they fancy have done them wrong. He's very good at his job, and when he's not working he's smiling ever-so-handsomely at any lady that comes across his path, though he never offered them drinks in my memory. He's only been a bounty hunter for five years, but when he was a little boy he knew everything about everyone in Tortuga and people would pay well for that knowledge--or to keep that knowledge quiet. Usually the highest bidder won."

            _A bounty hunter? No, that can't be! He was so kind, and he seemed to like me..._

"Yes, Captain, I'm telling you the truth. And if he bought enough rum to knock you out cold only to leave you on the dock by our ship, then he must have some hidden agenda. I don't know why he brought you back, but you can be sure that he'd be a good one to avoid. He captains the Lady Pandora."

            "The Lady Pandora? She's the only ship in these waters that can catch the Black Pearl if she sets out in enough time!" Reanna exclaimed. "Damn, we have to leave here now, perhaps we could shelter at the Isla de Muerta for a while."

            After Ana Maria had left her to get dressed and to tell the crew to make ready for imminent departure, Reanna whispered, "I'm sorry, Da, it looks like your last wish will have to remain unfulfilled."

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It's getting harder and harder to separate myself from Reanna's character so I can leave you guys these brilliant author's notes! Anyway, that's two chapters in one day, maybe I should lay off a little and give you guys some time to catch up, eh? Or maybe not, who knows! I love you all so very much! Thank you!


	16. The Chase Is On

Chapter Sixteen: The Chase Is On!

            "Captain!" called one of the crew members of the Lady Pandora. Devon turned away from his ale and thoughts of Reanna to look at the distraught pirate. 

            "Yes, what is it?" he asked in irritation.

            "Well, sir, remember how ye told me to get ye the momen' the Pearl left the 'arbor?" the man asked.

            "Yes," Devon replied slowly.

            "Well...I bin searchin' fer ye for the past half hour, by me reckonin', to tell ye that the Pearl just left this mornin'. O' course, that was half an hour ago."

            Devon stared at the man for a long moment, and then burst into a frenzy of cursing. Throwing a coin on the counter, he rushed out of the bar and ran as quickly as he could to his ship, his subordinate huffing along behind him. 

            He started calling orders to his crew the moment his foot touched the gangplank, telling them to make way as quickly as they could to try and catch the Black Pearl. He stood at the helm, thinking grimly that it would be quite the chase to catch up to that ship. But they couldn't have gone much farther than the bay, he thought. He abruptly called out an order for the oars to be manned. They would have to use every resource they had, even if it meant exhausting the oar crew. The boarding could be handled well enough with the rest of his men.

            "Damn, she must have found out who I am," he groaned to himself. "Not that I made my identity much of a bloody secret in Tortuga. Blast!"

            The Lady Pandora moved far more swiftly out of the bay than the Pearl had, and for all that the Pearl was the fastest ship in these waters, she wasn't a very quick starter. Perhaps there was some hope of catching up, Devon thought hopefully. 

            Especially if a certain few people remained loyal to him. 

**

            "Damn it all!" Reanna shouted, in a fine fury. "That's the bloody Lady Pandora! Can we not get any more speed?!"

            "No, Captain, we can't!" Ana Maria shouted back. "Half the oarsmen are drunk off their arses!"

            "Bloody hell, I hate Tortuga!" Reanna muttered. "Tell them to get to work right away, headache or not, it's their own blasted fault that they drank too much, and now they can pay for it!"

            Ana Maria nodded and went belowdeck to bully the oarsmen into action, but Reanna knew that it would be of little use. She looked through the telescope to the Lady Pandora, which was disturbingly closer than it should have been, and figured that Devon was working his crew of oarsmen to the bone to catch up to her.

            _But none of this makes sense!_ her mind cried. _Why would he bring me back to my ship only to chase me out into open waters?!_

For a moment she felt her headache begin to come back, but she ignored the pain. There was no time for her to be feeling miserable, she had to prepare herself for what was likely going to be quite the battle. Hell, what was the point in even running? The Lady Pandora was going to catch up, it was inevitable. Perhaps, though, if she could find a favorable position, maybe get the element of surprise...she yelled, "Turn hard about! We're going to meet them and show them what the Pearl is made of!" 

            Some of the crew cheered before getting back to the hard work of preparing the ship for boarding and loading the cannons. 

            "I'm not going to be caught off guard, Devon," she whispered under her breath, loosing her sword in its sheath and making sure her pistol was ready. 

**

            "Damn--" Devon started to say, and then shouted, "They've turned about, get your worthless hides ready! Run out the guns!"

            He roared a few more commands before staring out at the fast approaching Pearl. _The girl's clever, I'll give her that. But she hasn't had any captaining experience before now, if my guess is correct. Of course, I do still have the advantage--she doesn't know about my spies yet. _

            "Why the bloody hell aren't you lot getting ready?!" she asked the group of four or five men. 

            One grinned widely at her, as though he was amused by her anger. "Because we ain't gonna fight. Leastways not for you."

            "Bloody hell," she cursed under her breath. "You're Devon's spies, aren't you?" she snarled. 

            "Yup, and there ain't a damned thing ye can do about it, since the Pandora's approachin' right quickly," the same person that first spoke said. 

            Reanna let fly a kick to the man's chin and drew her sword, lopping his head off in a swift motion. "Nothing I can do about it, eh?" she growled at the remaining men. They backed away, seeming to be frightened at the anger that sparked from Reanna's eyes. Before they could jump ship, she stabbed one of them in the heart and cut into the stomachs of two of the others. The first slumped to the deck, blood pooling in his mouth as he died, and the other two shrieked in pain as they tried to hold their guts in with their hands. 

            The last man, unharmed as of yet, stood stock-still, staring at her in horror. "Take him to the brig, and make sure he's securely bound!" she shouted to anyone that would listen. Mr. Cotton appeared and took the man away. 

            Satisfied that her orders would be followed by one of her father's most loyal--and blessedly silent, even if his parrot was bloody obnoxious--crew members, she noticed that the Pandora was nearly beside them and called for the anchor to be dropped. She had no qualms about killing the bloody spies.

            A couple of men dumped the four corpses off the side of the ship so they wouldn't be underfoot for the fighting that was surely to come.

**

            Devon had been watching the approach of the Pearl in his telescope and had noticed that there seemed to be some action going on. Focusing in on it, his mouth gaped open in surprise when he saw what Reanna was doing. She was killing his men! But...how did she know? How had she found out?

            He shook his head, amused. So she was even more clever than he had thought. Amazing woman, that one, and he grew even more reluctant to take her to his employer. Hmm...perhaps there was a way...

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Nikkee: Hey, I was wondering where you'd disappeared to! It's fine that it took you a while to catch up...I've sort of been writing so fast that it's probably been a bit difficult for everyone to keep up with me. Thank you so much for that lovely compliment, a craftsman (or woman) is always pleased to hear that his/her work is appreciated! ^.^

Rin: How did they ship Jack out to sea? Well, the funeral itself was held on the Pearl, and Jack's body was commended to the sea. So he's at the bottom of Davey Jones' locker or he's in some sea creature's belly! Thanks for the review!

Elkengrove: Lol, so glad you approve of Devon's name...sounds properly mysterious, don't you agree? Not to mention that your own name is Devan...lol! Thanks for the review!


	17. Raven Firestorm

Chapter Seventeen: Raven Firestorm

            When the Pearl was practically beside the Lady Pandora, Devon apparently decided to run up a flag of parley, which puzzled Reanna considerably. The crew of the Pearl groaned with disappointment. It had been so long since these men--and a couple of women--had seen a real ship-to-ship battle. 

            Reanna ordered her men to hold their fire and to await her command as they pulled awkwardly up beside the Pandora. 

            "What the bloody hell do you want, Devon?!" Reanna shouted across the gap between ships. 

            "I want to 'bloody' talk to you, lady!" he shouted back. "And as I'm under the protection of parley...what choice do you have?"

            "I've the choice to blast your ship to the depths of the ocean, that's what choice I have!" she roared angrily. "Why should I trust you, you damned bounty hunter?"

            Devon grabbed a rope and prepared to swing himself across to the Pearl. "Keep your pistols and swords aimed at his heart, men," she told the members on deck. When Devon swung across, she glared at him with mistrust.

            "Ah, lady, though the price on your head is high, I must confess that I have become enchanted by your beauty! I cannot turn you in to my employer!" he said feelingly--if a bit insincerely.

            Reanna simply snorted at his speech. "Devon, I know your reputation for charming women, but I'm on to you. You'll not catch me with pretty flattery," she said. "Not that it's ever worked before," she added, thinking of little William and the other useless fops running about Port Royal. "Now tell me what it is that you want."

            Devon's face took on a more serious expression. "Not in front of your men. I wish to speak of this in private, lovely Raven."

            "My name," she retorted, "is Reanna. Do not go calling me by names I haven't earned. And about privacy...you will have to settle for one of the elves being in the room with me."

            "Elves...?"

            "You'll see," she said slyly, amused by the fact that Devon had apparently not heard of the elves her mother and father had brought with them to the Caribbean islands. "Stand down, men!" she called to her crew. "Captain Devon and I have some negotiations to make, perhaps afterwards we can destroy them!" The crew roared its approval at the last statement as Reanna and Devon went towards her cabin. Reanna nodded to Haramel, who fell into step behind Devon and followed them into the spacious chambers. 

            "So," Reanna started as soon as the door was closed, "what do you have to say that is so bloody important that it can't be said in front of my crew?"

            "Perhaps...perhaps a trade, lovely one," Devon said craftily. "I will tell you everything I know if you tell me where you found this...this elf standing before me."

            Reanna grew angry. "I'll not tell you where the elves were found, and if you insist on putting a price on your words I will kill you now and destroy your crew!"

            Devon chuckled. "Alright, I'll tell you, but I do hope that in friendship--" Reanna snorted at the word, "--you will tell me how these lovely creatures were found." 

            "Tell me now, Devon, I'll not tolerate much more of this. Do remember that you are on my ship--we rather outnumber your solitary person, especially now that your spies are dead."

            "Ah, yes, you'll have to tell me how you discovered them, as well! They deserved the death you dealt them, no doubt." At Reanna's glare, he rolled his eyes. "Very well, if you're going to be so impatient about it...I met my employer in one of Tortuga's many bars, he came to me with a reward that I could scarce refuse. Hell, I could even quit my job if I were to collect that pay! 

            "All he asked was that I bring Jack Sparrow's daughter to _his_ superior--whose name was not mentioned, all that was given me was the place--and that man would then pay me my sum. 'Twas quite simple, really, especially for the sum that was offered. And it would have been so easy to simply bring you back to my ship--as well as have my way with you, which would be quite the pleasure I'm sure had the man not specifically said that you were to be untouched--and take you to the aforementioned place, but I decided to let you go. I regretted that decision this morning, of course, hence my coming after you. 

            "God's truth, Reanna, I don't want to turn you in to those men, but I must do my job. If I don't, I'll likely be killed for my failure. It's in my contract. Anyway, the bottom line is this--if you come with no fuss, I will allow your crew to sail away in this ship with no harm done them."

**

            "No," Reanna stated flatly, even more angry than she had been before. "No, Devon, I shall not allow myself to be captured for your sake." She grinned wickedly then, and he just knew that she had come up with something diabolical. She walked the two steps it took to get behind him and twisted his arm painfully behind his back, holding her finger on a pressure point near his neck. "Haramel, if you would kindly open the door...?"

            Haramel did, and Reanna walked a very surprised Devon out onto the deck and over by the rail nearest the ship. "Tell them that they really should get into the boats, love, and do it quickly," she whispered into his ear. Strangely, his neck grew almost hotter than he could bear beneath the finger she held to it. 

            When he hesitated, she shook him slightly. "Tell them now, or they will all die--as will you, for I will throw you back onto your doomed ship if you do not obey my command." 

            He had never been put into such a position, and had never thought to be put into it by a woman that wasn't even as tall as he was. He did as she commanded, not doubting that she would indeed kill him as the spot near his neck felt as though the skin was being seared with a hot poker. 

            "Very good," she purred, and then nearly deafened him with her shout of, "To the oars, any man that can do so, and quickly! We're getting away from the Pandora!" 

            He thought she would let him go, but instead her grip tightened and her finger pressed down harder, making him sag slightly. He watched his ship as they grew farther away from it, watching the scurrying of his crew as they got the boats lowered. 

            "Say goodbye to the Lady Pandora," she whispered as the last boat dropped. He felt the abnormal heat of her body rise, making him sweat all the more under the Caribbean sun, but he no longer felt the burning at his neck, which came as a relief, if a small one. 

            He was rather shocked when his ship burst into flames as the boats pulled away from it. The Pandora seemed nothing but a fireball twice the size the ship itself had been, and there were numerous explosions, the result of some of these being cinders that came even as far as the Pearl. _God above, _he thought, almost in disbelief, _my ship...the Pandora...she's gone! _A different and more frightening though followed quickly on the heels of the last.

            _What have I gotten myself into? What is this woman that she can make a ship go up in flames in a matter of moments?_

            He shivered, in spite of the heat--fast dissipating--that he still felt on his back. 

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Wonderful trick, don't you think? I wish I could do that, sometimes! But ah well, I hope you guys liked anyway!


	18. Romance?

Chapter Eighteen: Romance?  
  
Reanna stood before the cell in which she had imprisoned Devon. His spy had tried several times to speak with him, but Devon wouldn't reply, or even acknowledge the man's presence. It had been two days, and still he stared morosely at nothing. He hadn't even eaten any of the food she had sent down for him.  
"You know, I probably did you a favor," she said. His lips tightened and he glared up at her--the first response she had seen from him since his ship had been destroyed.  
"And how, pray tell, did you do me a bloody favor?" he asked, his tone icy.  
"Well, for one, I did allow your men some time to get off of the ship, and two, your 'employers' have little reason to think you're even alive anymore."  
"You know, I don't give a damn about my employers. I wouldn't have taken you to them anyway, I would have found a way to keep you hidden!" he protested.  
"Oh, yes, and what would have happened to the Pearl? And you seem to forget that your employers would likely have you killed after a certain time had passed and you hadn't found me anyway! This way, there won't be any serious looking for you, they'll simply hire someone else now.  
"Besides," she continued, "I am in the market for a good first mate. Ana Maria is nice enough, but she's not really cut out for the job, Mr. Gibbs is too drunk, and Cotton's parrot drives me mad. You'll be paid, of course."  
Devon stared at her in utter disbelief. "You want me to be a first mate, when I was once captain of the Lady Pandora?!"  
"Yes, Devon, I do. The job of captain has already been filled on this ship, and I'm not willing to give it up. Take it, Devon, or stay in this wretched cell until I decide to really kill you--and it could be years before I decide to do that."  
He sighed wearily, sadly. "Fine," he agreed. "I'll do it."  
"Jolly good, then," she replied brightly, unlocking the cell door.  
"What 'bout me?" called the spy from the opposite cell.  
  
"You can stay down here and rot, you bloody liar!" Reanna called back in answer as she and Devon went upstairs.  
  
"Do try chewing, Devon, it helps," Reanna gently scolded later that night as they had supper in her cabin. Devon mumbled something in response, but she couldn't tell what he said for the food that he had stuffed in his mouth, but she noticed with some satisfaction that he started to chew it. They ate in silence after that, each concentrating more on their food than anything else.  
After they had cleaned nearly all the food from the table, they both sat back in their chairs, satisfactorily full.  
"I suppose you're right, Raven, you did do me a couple favors," Devon said.  
Reanna looked at him in slight annoyance. "I wish you'd quit calling me that," she said.  
"What? Raven? But it suits you, love!" he replied with a large grin on his face.  
"I haven't yet earned a nickname, Devon, and so I would prefer that you call me by my given name."  
"Ah, you haven't heard, then?" Devon asked, his grin even wider now. "Your crew has started calling you 'Raven Firestorm.'"  
"Mmhmm, very amusing, but I don't really believe you," she replied, moving to one of the more cushioned chairs.  
"No, really, I heard the people that brought food down calling you that! Of course, they only whispered it, probably because they knew that you'd react this way to it," he said, stopping to take a drink of the rum Reanna had provided. "At least they admire and love you--that can't be said of very many captains, especially ones that have taken over from a very well-loved one like your father was."  
"He was murdered, you know," she said softly.  
"I didn't know, I thought he had died of an illness," Devon said, sensing the depression Reanna had fallen into at the mention of her father.  
  
"No, he didn't--though he was very sick. He got his throat slit by a man that disappeared soon after. I found him like that."  
Her expression was so sad, and he couldn't help but feel sorry that he had brought up mention of her father. Her grief reached out to him, pulling him up out of his chair and beside Reanna's. Before he realized what he was doing, he had his arm around her shoulders and she was leaning against him, tears sliding down her cheeks, her rum forgotten and in a puddle on the floor.  
They sat like that for a long while, and when he tilted her chin up to look at her face, her emerald eyes, still wet with tears, caught him in their spell. He cared not that her cheeks were blotchy and wet, and when their lips finally met he knew nothing but how good they felt against his, how right.  
She pulled him deeper under her spell, intensifying the kiss as her need for comfort drew him closer and closer to her. God, what he would give just to be a little bit closer...but then she pulled away, turning her face down so that her hair obscured her expression.  
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice slightly husky.  
"For what?" he asked, still slightly lost in how it had felt to be kissing her.  
"I...I think you should go to your cabin for the night, Devon."  
"What? After that?" he asked, a little incredulous. Hadn't she felt what he had? What he still did?  
"Yes! Just...just go!" she shouted, lifting her face. She looked angry, but he could tell that she was hurt at the same time.  
He stared at her for a while, the memory of the kiss fading into fury. She was dismissing him, just like that? What had he been doing kissing her, anyway? After what she had done, how could he even stand to look at her? Finally, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Later, Reanna felt incredibly lonely, and wondered what she had done to make him look at her the way he had before he had left so angry. It was as though he loathed her. She felt her eyes welling up with tears, but refused to shed them now. She laid awake for a long time, but finally fell into a fitful, unrestful sleep.  
  
Devon had as much trouble finding rest that night, his feelings were so confused once his anger had been spent. There was something about her that he couldn't quite define, and he felt something decidedly odd whenever he looked at her. Since he had never felt it before, he poked at it incessantly, as though he would a scab, taking some amount of pleasure in the pain that it caused him.  
He was so confused.  
  
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Alright, two in one day! This means I can take a two-day break from writing, if I so choose! I guess I'm mainly trying to keep somewhat with the days of the month, trying not to fall behind, lol. So far it's working quite well! 


	19. Chipper as a Sparrow

Chapter Nineteen: Chipper as a Sparrow

            "He's what?!" the man shouted, obviously furious.

            The seer cowered, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would direct any rage towards him. 

            "Tell me again what you saw," the angry man said in a deceptively calm tone.

            "I had thought to check in on the bounty hunter, just to see if he'd found the girl." The seer stared wildly about, hoping he would get some chance to escape before his mad employer decided to kill him off. "Well, he apparently had, and he was nearly upon her when he ran up a flag of parley. Well, when he went over onto the ship, they talked about...something, I couldn't hear what they were saying. The girl has that effect on my visions, you know. Anyway, when they were on the deck of the Pearl again, they started to leave, and the crew of the Lady Pandora was moving as fast as they could to get off the ship, but I didn't understand why since there hadn't been a boarding.

            "When the Pearl was well away, I understood. The ship burst into flames, sir, they were gigantic. I couldn't see anymore after that, the girl has some sort of shield over her ship that prevents me from seeing it sometimes." When he finished, he was relieved to find that the insanity of his employer's anger had apparently faded some. He was sitting down with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

            The seer relaxed. He was off the hook, so to speak, and glad to be so. Normally he was a very intimidating man, especially with his abilities to see the past and future of people he met, and this set those people on edge. They feared him, and went out of their way to make him happy for that fear that he would reveal their most dangerous secrets.

            Being a subordinate did not sit well with him at all. Oh, sure, it had all started out as equals, but the more people the madman brought into this scheme--such as the bounty hunter, and the marksman (now deceased)--the less he himself was treated with the respect of a peer. He had thought about leaving the whole mess altogether, but he knew that his employer would only find some other seer to help do his dirty work. 

            Besides, the pay was fantastic, even if the perks seemed to be few. Once the girl was captured, he would be a very rich man. His employer had even given him a substantial bonus for killing Jack Sparrow. The man had some terrible hatred for Jack Sparrow that the seer could not understand, and had been thrilled when the pirate was dead. 

            He had yet to unravel that oddity in his employer, but when he had some time, he would look into the past of this strange man that seemed perfectly sane at times but absolutely mad the next. 

**

            When Reanna woke, she vowed not to think about what had happened the night before. She had far too much work to do to be mooning about over a man anyway. The Pearl and the sea was her life. The first thing to figure out was a destination...

            She grinned when an idea came to her. It was an ungodly hour of the morning...and her new first mate was undoubtedly sleeping. Ah yes, it would do him good to get used to a temperamental captain waking him up at all hours. She cheerfully got dressed and made her way to his cabin.

**

            He was woken from his fitful slumber when a loud banging was issued upon his door. He lit a candle and looked at the time. God, it was only three o'clock! Growling slightly, he flung his door open, ready to knife whoever it was that had disturbed his sleep.

            "Good morning!" chirped Reanna as she pushed his knife--held slackly due to surprise--aside and entered his room. 

            He stared blearily at her, wondering what the devil was the matter with her that she could be so wakeful at such an hour. 

            "So, since you're the first mate, you're entitled to help me figure a course for where we should go now, since we can't very well go back to Tortuga for a week or two. Never know where your former employers might appear, eh?" she said, elbowing his ribs a bit and winking at his nakedness. 

            Devon raised an eyebrow, wondering how this change had been wrought in his lovely raven. _My captain,_ he corrected himself. She had been angry when she had banished him from her cabin the night before, but now she was as chipper as a sparrow that has just eaten a particularly large worm. 

            "Hello? Devon?" she said, waving her hand in front of his face. 

            "What?" he asked.

            "I just told you that you need to get dressed and to come to my cabin in five minutes. If you're not there, I'll throw you in the brig again!"

            With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving him to wonder what exactly had just happened. When his knife fell from his hand to the floor, he jumped as it narrowly missed his foot. Cursing, as was his wont, he began to pull some clothes onto his naked body.

**

            Reanna couldn't help but feel giddy as she made her way back to her own cabin. For one, she had just seen her very first naked male body, and was amused. Two, she had thoroughly flustered Devon, and rather enjoyed the feeling of being in control where he was concerned. She might have to catch him off guard more often, it was amusing. 

            Although she already had a pretty good idea of where to go to reprovision and perhaps to lay low for a week or so, she thought she would ask Devon anyway and get his opinion. She was excited to go to this island, she had never been there before. It should be an enjoyable experience, she thought. 

            When Devon came in, still obviously not quite awake but clothed now save for a shirt (which she wished that he would put on, it was rather distracting to have an attractive man around not wearing a shirt when you wanted to accomplish something serious). 

            She tore her gaze away from his torso, and said, "I plan on going to St. Maarten, what do you think the risk factor is?"

            "That's the isle I was hired at. The man that came to me is a seer, Reanna, he'll know we're there the moment we step foot on land," Devon said grimly.

            "You should really talk to Y'lorani some time, Devon. But, as I don't wish to wake her at this moment--" she grinned at the scowl that came over his face, "--I'll just tell you what she'll say. I can't be seen by those who can see into the past, present and future. In her own words, it's as though there is a heavy blanket drawn over me and my surroundings."

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Alrighty, I took one of my two days vacation that I've earned while writing this story! I'm still one up, so I'll probably take next Saturday off too, since it's prom and all. Thank you, Nikee, for reviewing the last two chapters, it's very much appreciated, and I hope you update your story right quickly! The more you write, the better you get (although that didn't prove true for me in FoY, eh?)! If you want any advice or anything, e-mail me any time!


	20. Passage to Womanhood

Chapter Twenty: Passage to Womanhood

            "You can't be seen? But...how?" he asked, rather confused.

            "I don't know, no one will explain to me exactly why. My mother can be seen, even though it's slightly blurred, according to Y'lorani. Y'lorani thinks that it's probably that way because my mother has lived as human and goddess of elves, so she can be seen by both human and Elvin seers, though not clearly by either. Y'lorani could see my father, too, but he was slightly blurred like my mother. She says she still doesn't know exactly why she could see him, but it doesn't really matter."

            "So," Devon said thoughtfully, "if I stay close enough to you, they can't see me either, right?"

            Reanna just shrugged. "I don't know, I haven't had any experience with human seers. I didn't really know that there were any until recently. We could always try it, and if it works, great. If it doesn't...well, we'll just have to figure that out when the time comes. If it ever does.

            "Now, since you say that St. Maarten was where you were hired, there is a good chance that there will be a couple of leads to be found in my search for my father's killer."

            Devon grimaced. He didn't want to be seen by anyone when his own ship was nowhere near here, but he apparently had little choice. His captain--damn her--was going to force him into helping her get her revenge on the seer, whom he felt sure had actually done the killing. From what Reanna had told him of Jack's sudden downfall, it must have been the man known for his various poisoned darts. 

            When Devon had been hired, it had originally been to kill that man, and when that job had been completed without a hitch, he had been hired to seek out this wonderfully smart, beautiful, and incredibly volatile woman. He wondered if the man above the seer was aware of his weakness for lovely women, and wondered if that man had even seen Reanna. Surely if he had, he would have found a female bounty hunter--and there were those--to search the girl out. 

            When he had asked the seer why his master hadn't bothered speaking to them--and he would know, the bounty hunters weren't secretive with each other about who had hired them, even if they wouldn't share the details of the job--the seer had grimaced, saying that his master had some sort of bias against women. Especially the strong ones. 

            It wasn't Devon's job to ask questions about why he was to do what job, and he had never had any problem with not knowing the whys. He hadn't had a problem with that until now, anyway. Why was his employer seeking Reanna? She had only just come into her captaincy--not to mention her womanhood--and had never done anything to anyone. _Except me,_ he corrected himself, then thought, _I wonder what she'll do when she's backed into a corner with no way out? She certainly showed her prowess with a sword, and then there's her trick with fire. Does anyone know about all of this besides me?_

"Devon!" Reanna shouted with annoyance, sounding as though she had tried to get his attention more than once.

            "What?" he asked, more sharply than he had intended. Reanna raised an eyebrow.

            "Don't ever speak to me with that tone again, especially in front of other crew members. I am the captain, and I am to be treated with respect at all times, do you understand me?" she asked, her tone deadly. 

            Devon swallowed his resentment at being talked to like he was a subordinate--granted, he was, he just hadn't gotten used to it yet. "Aye, captain," he said, trying to keep his voice level so as not to show his anger.

            Reanna glared at him for a moment longer, and then said, "Get back to bed for a couple hours, Devon, but be prepared to work your arse off in a few hours. We set sail for St. Maarten the moment the sun peeks over the horizon."

            She turned her back on him then, a clear dismissal. He quietly left the cabin, still nursing the wound his pride had sustained at the all-too-clear lecture he had received. _I suppose I'll have to get used to being ordered around by a seventeen-year-old,_ he mused, and then realized that she actually was seventeen now. Tonight would be the full moon, which meant that today marked the day of her birth. 

            To his surprise, he found himself wanting to do something special for her to signify her coming out into womanhood. But what?

**

            Reanna didn't go back to sleep. Instead, she went out onto the deck after she had sent Devon away to look at the stars. Their nightly dance was nearly over, the nearly-full moon reaching the western horizon. _Today I am seventeen, _she thought to herself. _I am a woman now in all meanings of the word, I suppose. Strange, I don't feel any different than I did yesterday, or the day before. I don't feel like I've changed any, though my life certainly has. _

_            Isn't there supposed to be some revelation once you reach adulthood? Some sort of epiphany? Why don't I feel any different?_

            Not finding an answer within herself, she dismissed the man in the crow's nest, telling him to get some rest and that she would take over until dawn. The grateful man quickly complied, clambering down the ladder quickly. 

            She curled up in the nest, staring upwards, feeling the comforting and gentle rocking of the ship at rest in the sea. It had always comforted her to be even a little bit closer to the stars, even if they did feel more empty and cold than they ever had before. What had happened to make the warmth disappear from them? Had she done something to disappoint them?

            She sang the star greeting, even though it was nearly dawn. Her voice lifted high, seeming to reach all the way to the heavens, and those of her crew that had been sleeping fitfully suddenly fell into deep and peaceful sleep. 

**

            When Devon heard the sweet, silvery soprano voice penetrating everything even to his own cabin, he found himself sliding towards slumber and resisted it with all of his might. He wanted to find out who was singing, and so sadly. 

            Fighting the urge to lay down, he took his boots off so that the sound of his coming would not make the singer stop at his approach and walked up to the deck. When he didn't see anyone at all, he thought that he might have been imagining things, but the voice was still singing in that beautiful language that he had never before heard. It was like a warm rain, or a peaceful stream. He had never heard anything like it and could not resist trying to find out who--or what--was singing. 

            For one heart-stopping moment, he remembered the old tales of the sirens that lured sailors to their deaths on the rocks. The memory lasted but a moment, however, before the song took hold of his heart again. When he thought to look up, he saw what could only be Reanna in the crow's nest, her black hair free of all confinement for the first time since he had met her, her arms lifted to the sky. 

            What language was she singing in? Why did she sound so sad? 

            Instead of climbing up and disturbing her, he went back to his own cabin feeling inexplicably sorrowful until he laid on his own bed and fell asleep almost immediately. 

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Haha! Still a day ahead of schedule! Yay! I thought I wasn't going to make it, because I took an almost two-hour nap this morning with Korin, and that's usually when I write my chapter for the day. It also didn't help that at first, I had no idea what I was even going to write about, but hey, it apparently worked out for the better, so I hope you guys enjoyed and I shall hopefully write again tomorrow!


	21. Wager

Chapter Twenty-One: Wager

            "Damn!" the seer shouted furiously as yet another attempt at scrying failed. It was proving impossible to find the bounty hunter, though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Devon was still alive. If he had been dead, there would simply have been nothing to see, but as it felt like he was trying to push through a heavy drape, he knew that Devon was alive. If only he could get a glimpse of where Devon was now, perhaps where he was headed to! He damned the woman that he couldn't see for her innate protection against such apparently pitiful attempts as his. His ego had been greatly shaken by his inability to see someone so young.

            Although he _had _seen her. He had been to the isle that she lived on with her father and her mother and some elves, and he had seen her. She was beautiful, strong, and quick to anger. He had left in such a hurry after slitting Jack's throat in order to avoid her. Her mother had provided no trouble for him--the woman always seemed to be drunk nowadays, for which he was immensely grateful. If she had been sober, she would have likely seen through his façade to the man he really was. 

            She had power, he knew. How could she not when she was difficult for him to see? Jack had had power too, but it hadn't done him any good against the marksman's poison. The seer smiled. He was quite happy to have killed of that Jack Sparrow. The man had been a great bother to him. What with killing Barbossa and the entire crew being taken prisoner to be hanged. Jack had known everything about him, and he couldn't bear the thought that Jack might some day reveal his secrets to the known world. 

            He tried his scrying again, searching out Devon. For the first time, he saw something. Flashes of light showed him an angry sky, furiously throwing lightning bolts and roaring thunder. The seer grinned. So, the girl was concentrating on something else to the detriment of her protective shield. 

            He only prayed that it would last long enough for him to discover where they were.

**

            The wind was fabulous today, Reanna couldn't help but thinking. It was blowing the right direction, for once, and she was taking full advantage of it. The sails were billowing, the oarsmen hard at work (though it couldn't be that difficult with a tailwind), and Devon was no longer looking mutinous. Apparently it was getting a little bit easier to take her orders. She smiled, then laughed. It was a good day indeed, far better than she had thought it would be at three-thirty this morning. 

            One black mark on the day was that it was overcast, and the wind smelled of rain. There would likely be quite a squall before too long, but she hoped to outrun it as long as she could. She sent an order for the oarsmen to move faster. Her highest hopes were that they would beat the storm to St. Maarten, but that was still nearly a full day away, even with the excellent time they were making. 

            "Devon!" she shouted, and was forced to shout it again, and louder, before he could hear her. When he realized that she was calling for him, he trotted--carefully--over to her. "We're not going to be able to outrun the storm much longer, prepare the crew and yourself for a long night! If there's anything I can do about it, we'll get through this without even a ripped sail."

            "But the storm probably won't even be serious!" Devon said with some contempt.

            "Darling, I've been on the sea since I was a newborn babe. I can taste a storm on the air before it's within a hundred miles of me, and I can gauge how serious it will be. Mark my words, this one will last for a good six hours and it's going to be a tough one to get through intact. Should be quite the challenge, eh?" she asked, her eyes sparking with excitement. 

            "Well, if you're so sure about it, would you care to lay a wager?" Devon asked, smirking. 

            "Yes, I would. If I'm right, you get no pay for two months, how about that?" she replied.

            "And if I'm right?" he asked.

            "You won't get thrown into the brig for your disrespect and distrust in your captain! Now go and do what I ordered you to!" she shouted over a particularly gusty blast of the wind. Devon left her side then, undoubtedly sure that he would win this bet hands-down. Reanna smiled again, knowing better. She had a knack for gauging storms, she was better at it than anyone she had ever met. Her father had learned the hard way to listen to her when she said that a bad storm was coming, and it appeared that Devon would now learn the same hard lesson. 

            Ah well, it was his own fault for disbelieving her and making a wager on his erroneous assumption about the storm. 

**

            Three hours later, Devon would have cursed himself for arguing with Reanna if he hadn't been so busy keeping himself from falling overboard. It was raining hard, the wind whipped about as though it was trying to tear everyone and everything up from the ship. There was deafening thunder and blinding lightning.

 The crew had all lashed themselves to the rail after the sails had been tied down and the anchor dropped. The only one still not secured was Reanna, who was apparently making sure everyone was still alive and well--even the man that had once been Devon's spy, who was still down in the brig. 

            When she had run--not walked--past Devon, she had had a sort of excited and happy expression on her face. She seemed to be enjoying this! Briefly he wondered if her excitement would change as the storm wore on, but then his thoughts were consumed again by keeping himself alive and on board the ship. 

**

            The fury of the sea was beautiful to Reanna. In her eyes, the sea was only trying to claim its due, and she was the only one that stood in the way of its doing so. She ran about the ship, repairing small leaks that popped up here and there, making sure every last person on board her ship was alive and well--especially Haramel and Pur'a'ti, who had never been on board a ship during a gale such as this one. They appeared to be handling it fairly well, but they _were _elves...their constitutions were considerably stronger than the average non-seafaring human. 

            When someone shouted for her to tie herself to something secure, she shook her head. She couldn't just sit somewhere tied up and hope that her ship survived the storm, she had to make sure that nothing went wrong, or broke beyond all repair. She had to make sure that everyone stayed alive, and she would do that if it killed her. This was by far the worst squall she had ever come across in all of the voyages she had made with her father, but she felt confident that she could handle it just as well as he would have done. 

            Hours later, when it was only raining--and that nothing compared to the needles the raindrops had been earlier--and patches of the stars could be seen through the clouds, she told the crew to untie themselves and to make sure everything was alright. She would have done it herself, but she was so exhausted that she was having a hard enough time keeping herself on her feet at the helm of the ship. 

            In the last hour of the storm, she had held to the wheel, unable to do anything else in her exhaustion, but confident that the storm couldn't do much more damage as it waned. 

She looked up, seeing the full moon playing hide-and-seek in the clouds, and whispered, "Happy birthday to me," wryly. 

            She didn't realize that there were black spots swimming before her eyes, and she was slightly surprised to feel herself falling, though she never felt it when she hit the deck, having fainted dead away. 

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Hmm, and Devon still doubts Reanna...what a fool for betting on a storm with someone who's been on the sea most of her life! Lol, I hope you guys liked it, and thank you very much Elkengrove and Rin for your reviews on the last chapter, for the first time since I started this story there were more reviews than chapters! Let's keep it that way! Lol! I love you guys!


	22. Not a One so Lovely as Yours

Chapter Twenty-Two: Not a One as Lovely as Yours  
  
Pur'a'ti had pronounced Reanna fine after she had been brought to her cabin, and had expressly ordered that she be allowed to sleep. Devon had volunteered to stay with Reanna until she woke up and to tell her that the ship was in good shape. Ana Maria and Mr. Gibbs (sober, for once) could handle things well enough until Reanna was capable to captain the ship once more.  
He couldn't believe he had so thoroughly lost the wager they had laid before the storm had finally caught them. Now he was going to have to deal with two months sans pay. But that wasn't the thought foremost in his mind at the moment. She had taken the ship through the storm almost completely by herself. Even he wouldn't have run about the ship during such a severe gale. He would have been tied to the rail with the rest of the crew.  
It blew his mind that she had so put herself at risk to make sure that her ship made it through the storm completely intact. With the Lady Pandora, he would have done the best he could to make sure that the ship made it, but only to the extent that it would still be able to carry them to the next port for repairs. The Black Pearl had not only made it through the storm intact, but not a single sail had been ripped, the masts hadn't splintered in the slightest, and the leaks had been skillfully stopped to be repaired better when the storm had passed.  
It was no wonder she had fainted after the squall. He had been fumbling with getting himself untied when Reanna had called out the order for the crew to make sure everything was in shape, and when she had started to fall, he had forced his numb fingers to move faster so he could get to her. He hadn't made it before she fell to the deck, but he had carried her to her cabin afterwards with Pur'a'ti and a worried Elvin woman that he could only assume was Y'lorani following on his heels.  
Y'lorani didn't trust him, he knew. She had glared at him when he had volunteered to stay with Reanna, and before she followed Pur'a'ti out the door she whispered a threat that if he ever hurt Reanna in any sense that she would see him dead. More than ever he wondered what Reanna was that she commanded such strong emotions from all those that knew her. He also dearly wanted to know how these elves had been found and what had made them come into the human world after they had been gone for so long that they were thought to be myths.  
He was wrapped up in these thoughts when Reanna started awake, making him fall off of the stool he had been sitting on. When he pulled himself up onto his knees, his elbows propped on the edge of her bed, she asked, "Why am I here? How's the ship? Is everyone alive?"  
"You're in here because you passed out, the ship is in perfect shape and we should reach St. Maarten tomorrow, and yes, everyone is alive and well, if a bit battered," he answered.  
She relaxed, laying her head back down on her pillow. "Why are you in here with me when you're supposed to be running the ship?" she asked wearily.  
"Because your crew has yet to trust me, for one, and another...Ana Maria knows well enough how to handle the ship while you recuperate."  
She seemed to know that there was more that he wasn't telling her, and so she stared at him patiently.  
"Alright, alright, and I also wanted to tell you how amazing you are."  
Her brows lifted nearly into her hairline. He suspected that she had expected him to tell her some dreadful news.  
"Well you took the ship through the storm all by yourself when even I would have tied myself to the rail and prayed that the ship was in good enough shape afterwards that we could make it to the next port for repairs. You went above and beyond what you had to, and I really respect you for that." By the time his speech was over, he couldn't look her in the eye anymore and his cheeks were on fire.  
"You're wrong," she said. He looked up, unsure of what she meant. "I did exactly what I had to do, Devon. This was my father's ship, he loved it as much as he loved my mother and me. He would have done the same, and I would hate to disappoint him. So I'm not amazing, I'm just a good captain." She grinned, then, "But you respect me now, that's good. I might not have to throw you in the brig for not trusting my storm sense after all!"  
He smiled back, even though he didn't agree with her assessment of herself. "If Pur'a'ti and Y'lorani wouldn't kill me for it, I'd break out some wine and toast your seventeenth birthday," he said.  
She sat up and got out of bed, then realized that she wasn't wearing anything. "Oh damn," she muttered as she hurried over to her wardrobe to grab a shirt and a pair of breeches. "Why, oh why couldn't they have put something dry on me?"  
"Well I don't mind at all," Devon said, and she turned around to find him grinning at her as he looked her up and down. She blushed deeply and pulled the long shirt on, wrapping it around herself as though to protect her body from his eyes. He laughed. "At least we're even now, right?" he said coyly. She blushed deeper. "Why, Captain, I do believe I've embarrassed you!" "With comments and stares like yours were, any woman would be embarrassed!" she tartly replied.  
"You would think so, wouldn't you? I've met many a woman who was proud to show off her body, however, and not a one of them has had one so lovely as yours. Or so tan! Tell me, what did you wear outside to make the whole of your long legs so brown?"  
"That's none of your business!" she said, and grabbed a bottle of wine instead of putting on a pair of pants. She took a long swig of it, draining nearly a third of the bottle. He stared at her appreciatively, glad that she seemed to have forgotten about pants. Her legs were gorgeous, and even though the shirt now covered her torso, he remembered her flat and well-toned stomach had looked, as well as her nicely rounded breasts.  
He wouldn't soon be forgetting the curves of her glorious body, and he suspected that they would haunt his dreams for many nights to come. He had only told the truth when he had said that he had never before seen a woman's body so beautiful as hers. If she didn't believe him, well, then she was a fool.  
"Here, hand that over," he said when she had taken the bottle from her mouth. Her tongue slipped out to clean them of the wine, and he found himself wishing that it was his tongue that removed the last traces of the wine from those lips. Instead of staring, he poured some wine into two mugs and handed her one, raising his own for a toast.  
"To Reanna, the best captain in the world, on her birthday--what little is left of it, anyway. May the next one not bring anger to the gods of the sea!"  
With that, they both tipped their mugs up and drank deeply of the wine. When he put his mug down, he said, "So...you're not going to tell Y'lorani and Pur'a'ti that I got you drunk, are you?"  
She laughed. "I'm not quite drunk yet, Devon," she said, her less- than-perfectly pronounced words belying her statement. She finished off her cup then and sat on the bed beside him, still wearing only the shirt. "Alright, so maybe I'm a little drunk," she amended. "Drunk enough to do this," she said, then leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly. "But I'm not drunk enough to do anything that I know I wouldn't want to do," she said, still leaning close enough that her breath caressed his mouth. "And I most certainly want to do this." She kissed him again, and then again, wrapping an arm around his neck.  
  
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Alrighty, so now to reply to reviews that I forgot to say anything about in the last chapter, as well as the one review I got for that chapter!  
  
Rin: In response to your review of chapter twenty, I don't blame you for not trusting Devon. I don't really trust him either, but we'll just have to see where that leads us. And of course I wouldn't change him and thereby ruin my plot (even though I really don't know the whole of my plot...)! Thanks muchly for the review of chapter twenty-one, 'twas appreciated.  
  
Mae Rae, Vuzznut, Miss Presh, and Tracy, I haven't heard from you guys in a while, let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your comments! ...Ok, READ your comments...lol. 


	23. Damnable Conscience!

Chapter Twenty-Three: Damnable Conscience!

            _Wow, _he thought as Reanna and he continued kissing each other passionately. _Wait, should this be happening?_ a voice piped up in his mind, and he groaned inwardly. Damn conscience, why did it have to speak up now? He didn't want to stop! For the first time in his life, he didn't have to act like a courtier or have money to get a beautiful woman into bed with him, and his damned conscience decides to grow a backbone. 

            Where had his conscience been when he had decided to become a bounty hunter and turn in seemingly innocent people without asking questions? Where had it been then? _Then you weren't letting a drunk girl do something that she might regret later, _the voice said. 

            _Since when do I care what she regrets?! _he silently shouted back at his conscience. _She burned my ship, damn it! My crew is scattered to only God knows where, and now I just might get something in return for it!_

_            Remember what Y'lorani said? _his conscience replied slyly. Devon cursed, pulling away from Reanna. He had no doubt that the elf could kill him with hardly a thought to it, and the fact that he had begun to care for and respect Reanna only threw a bigger kink into the thick of things. 

            "What's wrong, Devon?" Reanna asked sharply, hardly seeming as though she had even taken a sip of wine. 

            "Reanna, I don't think I can go through with what you seem to be wanting to do right now. I'm sorry," he said miserably, running a hand through his unkempt hair, cursing when he hit a snag. 

            "Why not?" she asked coldly. "You seemed to be just fine with doing something of the sort not more than two nights ago. What's the matter?"

            "Then I didn't give a damn about what you might or might not regret, alright?" he said, almost shouting as he stood up. "Then you were just a little girl playing captain of a ship that you inherited from your highly esteemed father, you were as unimportant to me as a whore might have been!"

            Her eyes widened, and he thought he detected moisture welling in them, which made him immediately regret what he had just said. 

            "Listen, Reanna, I--" he started to say, but stopped when she stood up, trembling. 

            "No, I'm not going to listen to you, you have said all that I needed to hear. I thought that maybe I was a person worth your attention, but apparently I'm no more important than a whore." Reanna's voice shook, though whether it was from anger or tears it was hard to say. "I understand how a mere child like me would rank so low in your esteemed eyes as a bounty hunter, and I humbly beg your pardon for thinking that I could possibly be otherwise!" As she had continued speaking, her voice had risen to a rather high volume. 

            "Reanna!" he said pleadingly, and she raised her hand and delivered a stinging blow across his face. "Bloody hell, woman!" he shouted as he grabbed her wrists before she could strike at him again. He felt blood trickling down his cheek and realized in some small corner of his mind that she must have scratched him when she had slapped him. 

            Instead of struggling, as he had expected, she collapsed to her knees, her shoulders shaking with what sounded suspiciously like sobs. If there was anything that could possibly make him feel worse, it would have to be this, he thought bleakly to himself. He let go her wrists, but instead of comforting her, he picked up the wine bottle and finished it off, noticing to his discomfort that in her fury her shirt had fallen open and now hung off of one shoulder. She continued to cry, the occasional sob escaping her to reach his ears. 

            He was just glad that her hair hid her face. If he had been able to see the tears running down her cheeks he would have gone mad with the desire to do something--anything!--if only to make her smile. He couldn't help but notice that her hair was messed up, and couldn't resist getting down on the floor with her and smoothing it out. 

            She looked up at him, her sobs suddenly coming to a halt for the moment, and he damned himself to the deepest pits of Hell. Tears were still running down her cheeks, which had turned red from the crying, and her eyes were swollen and slightly reddened from the storm. 

            "I'm sorry, Reanna," he said, the words falling from his lips before he could stop himself. He couldn't help it, it was his curse. "I didn't mean it. I was angry at myself for taking advantage of you while you were drunk, and those words just...they just slipped out, and I was being cruel and I'm sorry. I want to make it up to you."

            She wiped her eyes with her shirt, no longer seeming to care that he could see her breasts. When even the residual sniffling had stopped, she sat on the floor staring at the slightly ragged carpet at picking at hit absently. He wished he could see her expression, but her hair was covering her face again, obscuring his view. 

            Daringly, he pulled her close to him and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He stood and carried her the short distance to her bed and placed her under the covers, trying to avoid her sorrowful green eyes staring up at him. 

            "You should sleep, Captain," he said gruffly, then turned to walk out of the cabin. 

            "Devon, wait," she rasped. He stopped.

            "Please...stay here," she said softly, almost pitifully. When he turned around, he saw that she had pulled the covers back and scooted to leave a large space for him to lay on. Sighing, he walked over to the bed and laid down next to her, holding her gently as she curled into him. 

            Though Reanna fell asleep, Devon remained awake for a long time, aching for her. He had said some very cruel things, none of them to be forgotten any time soon, though they appeared to have been forgiven for the moment. 

**

            Instead of shouting angrily, the seer just hanged his head in his hands. He had lost the vision. The veil had been drawn back over the whereabouts of the perfectly intact ship, and he was a failure yet again. 

            He was getting tired of this feeling of inadequacy, and he knew that his master would be very unhappy with him for not holding on to the vision long enough to learn anything of value. Even though he had been able to see, he couldn't hear anything, nor was he any good at lip-reading...not that anyone had really said anything during the violent storm that had seemed bent on destroying the ship and everyone on it. 

            Of course, the storm hadn't succeeded as it would have with almost any other person captaining the ship. This girl was exceedingly more skilled than he had had any reason to suspect, and he wondered whether his master knew what he did about her strength and resourcefulness. She was the only one that could possibly have been running the ship during the gale, after all. She had been the only one of the crew that wasn't tied to the rail. Even if he couldn't see her, he knew every crewmember she had, and each of them had been tied to the rail to ride out the storm. 

            Not that it mattered that she had taken care of the ship during this storm, once she was in his master's hands, there would be no way out. Not even for one as creatively resourceful as this Reanna seemed to be. He would have laughed if he hadn't known the truth of the fact that Reanna would be far harder to catch than he had been led to believe, and it would take every last ounce of cunning he had to do so. 

            But maybe Devon was still on their side...

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Rin: Thanks for your latest review, and I knew that you were the same Rin, lol. I looked at your profile just to make sure, lmao. 

Nikee: Thanks muchly for your latest review as well! 

I'm getting slightly burnt out, I'm sorry to say. This chapter took me an hour and a half to write (partially 'cause I had the TV on, I'll admit...), and it's been getting harder and harder to keep up since chapter 20. But I'll do my best to get another chapter out tomorrow, and then I'll take a day off on Saturday. After that, I'll try to finish out the month with a chapter a day and then maybe start slowing down a little bit! 

Thank you for your reviews, I love you all!


	24. Torture

**Warning! Lemon!**

Chapter Twenty-Four: Torture

            When Reanna woke, her head still lay on Devon's shoulder, and he was breathing deeply with sleep. It was odd to have someone besides herself in her bed, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. What a strange way to feel. She knew that she should still be angry at him for what he had said, but she couldn't find the strength within her to summon up that kind of rage again. What was the use, anyway? She would only alienate him more, and she didn't want to do that. For the first time, she was attracted to an intelligent man who was honest--brutally so--with her. And he was funny and good-looking as well. 

            She moved her head to better see his profile, and liked what she saw. His nose was perhaps a little off-kilter, but that was likely from having it broken more than once. He had nice lips, though. They weren't thick, but they weren't thin either, and it had felt wonderful to be kissing them. His eyes were gorgeous. They were set just right in his face, giving him an air of mystery and secrecy. She was glad that his eyebrows weren't thick and bushy. 

            She stroked his cheek a bit, following the line of stubble down around his chin and to the other cheek. If he were to grow a beard, it wouldn't be coarse like most men she knew. Ah, and that brought her to his hair...it was long, and so brown that it was almost black. It looked black when it was wet. Right now, it was a tangled mess and she longed to comb out the knots just to see it in all its glory hanging down his back. She figured that it would hang about halfway down his back, and she wanted badly to see it and touch it. It looked so soft. 

            His body wasn't a heavily muscled one, but long and lean, finely toned. He was deceptively strong, and she suspected that many a man had underestimated Devon's strength. Her fingers traced down from his cheek to stroke his neck lightly. She was content to lay next to him quietly, touching him. He was a very comforting presence, and she was glad that he was here. 

            Sleep was trying to drag her under, and she fought against it tooth and nail. She wanted to enjoy this while she could, damn it! She had little faith that he would allow her to do this while he was awake. _Damn...sleep..._she thought before it finally won the battle and whisked her away to dreams. 

**

            He breathed a sigh of relief when her hand stopped stroking his neck and her breathing became deeper and more even. He wouldn't take advantage of her, damn it, but she was making it extremely hard to control himself. It was bad enough that she was pressed up against his side, her warm breath tickling his collarbone and her leg thrown over his, but she was only wearing a shirt...and then she had started lightly stroking his cheek and neck. 

            This had woken him up and he had had to work hard to keep his body from tensing beneath her touch, to keep his breathing steady as his heart pounded faster and faster. He wanted to roll onto her and relieve the tension that pounded through him, concentrating its throbbing on one spot in particular, but he was afraid that she would reject him. Damn it all, he hadn't felt like this since he was a teenager! Part of him hated that Reanna brought this out in him, but most of him tingled with excitement and suspense. 

            Well, she was asleep now, he couldn't do anything about his torture anyway. He was uncomfortable on his back, though, so he rolled onto his side facing her, his lips touching her hair. 

            _Damn it, _he groaned to himself. His change of position only made things worse, because now her body was pressed all along his front. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to be as still as he possibly could. Unfortunately, she moved to get more comfortable, and her body teasingly rubbed against his most sensitive area before relaxing away from it again. 

            He was as tense as a bowstring drawn back to fire an arrow--if not more so--and he was sweating with the effort of holding back. "God," he whispered loudly in his agony, then whispered softer--if just as urgently--into her ear, "Reanna?"

            She mumbled something unintelligible and cuddled closer, making him clench his jaws tightly to retain what little self-control he had left. He whispered her name again and she once more mumbled something that he couldn't understand and moved against him again. He tipped her head up and kissed her lips lightly--which was very difficult for him at the moment. When she didn't respond, he kissed her again, and again, each time a little less gently and a little more arduously. 

            As his kisses intensified, she began kissing him back, her tongue rubbing against his slowly as she came out of sleep, and this only drove him wilder. His hands moved feverishly over her body, feeling the firm mounds of her breasts, her legs, and when his hand rubbed against the flesh of her womanhood, she brought her head back away from his kiss and groaned. 

            He suddenly froze in fear, as if he had just realized what he was doing. "Reanna! I'm sorry!" he said, mortified.

            She opened her eyes, staring up at him. They were dark with desire. "Don't...don't you dare...stop..."

            That was all he needed to hear. He kissed her deeply again, but now that he had some control over his actions, he moved slower--though not by much. He was gentler when he touched her breasts, caressing them slightly roughly before moving down again to stroke the inside of her thigh teasingly. 

            Her hands were gripping him tightly, her nails digging into his back, demanding that he end her torment. He obligingly trailed his fingers up her thigh until he touched her heat again. When his fingers entered her, she cried out in ecstasy, and he nearly burst at that moment. 

            He couldn't bear it anymore, he knew, and started fumbling at the laces of his breeches. Reanna helped as soon as she realized what he was trying to do, and he got the breeches as well as his underwear off much quicker than he would have by himself. When he was quite naked, he positioned himself on top of her and hovered at her opening. 

            "Please," she whispered, pressing against him. 

            He gladly obliged, easing himself into her as gently as he could--which wasn't very gentle at all--and pushed through her virginity. She cried out a little in pain, but he claimed her mouth for his own and started moving inside her, taking her past the pain and into a pleasure she hadn't thought possible. 

            He stopped kissing her as the tension built up to an almost unbearable level and looked down into her eyes. They were both breathing heavily, and a drop of sweat fell from his face onto her own. She hardly seemed to notice, however, as her eyes widened and she cried out almost in surprise, tightening around him. Knowing that this was what he had been waiting for, and he released his seed into her with a moan of relief. 

            When he was finished and the throes of their passion had released Reanna as well, he let his head hang by her shoulder while he regained his breath, still inside her. 

            They laid that way for a long time, and when Reanna started to say something, he shushed her by taking one of her nipples into his mouth and moving himself suggestively against her again. 

            They made love again, this time taking it slower, less urgent. 

            Thus Reanna was introduced to the most pleasurable part of womanhood.

************************************************************************

Yeep, I don't know where this came from...I guess I was feeling lemony...Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this anyway!


	25. News Come Late

Chapter Twenty-Five: News Come Late

            _I am never doing that again, _she thought to herself as she performed the usual duties to her ship the next day. _Especially if it means I'm going to be so damned uncomfortable! _She was sore in spots that she hadn't thought possible, and in her mind, that was reason enough to be furious with Devon. Why hadn't he warned her about that? 

            A tiny voice in the back of her mind warned her that she was being a bit unfair, but she squashed it. How was she being unfair? He was the one that had started it in the first place! Growling, she went back to her cabin for a quick drink, slamming the door behind her. 

**

            Her crew looked at each other as she entered her cabin, and all let out a sigh of relief. It was obvious that the captain was in a foul mood, and they had all been holding their breath as though they were waiting for a storm to break over them. Not a one of them was foolish enough to ask what was wrong, and they worked extra-hard so as not to bring her wrath down upon them for slacking. Even the oarsmen were working harder than usual to avoid Captain Firestorm's wrath, and at the rate the ship was moving, they'd be to St. Maarten before the sun had completed its descent. 

            If Reanna was in a foul mood, however, Devon was downright cheerful. He seemed incapable of ceasing to smile, and many a man on the crew elbowed each other and passed meaninful glances between each other. They all knew the source of that smile, even if they didn't know which of the few women on board he had been with the night before. They whispered in awe to each other that he had gotten away with it right after a storm--especially right under the captain's nose! 

            They knew better than to gossip that he had been with the captain, however. They knew well that she would likely keelhaul the source of any such rumors with no hesitation. 

            All in all, the skies were clear, the wind was good, and the angry captain was in her cabin, leaving her grinning first mate to run the ship. It was a good day. 

**

            Later, when someone knocked tentatively on her door, she shouted a rude "What do you want?"

            "It's me, Reanna," said Y'lorani. 

            "Y'lorani!" Reanna exclaimed, turning to face her. "What are you doing in here?" She swallowed her irritation for the sake of the elf, knowing that Y'lorani hated it when she was angry. 

            "I came to ask you why the devil you're in such a bad mood today," Y'lorani said, a single brow raised questioningly. 

            "I...I..." Reanna started, and stopped, blushing furiously. 

            "So, you're really a woman now," Y'lorani said, sounding amused. "I have to assume that it was Devon, since he was the only man in your room to my knowledge."

            "Yes," Reanna said, it coming out in a great whoosh of breath. She sounded almost relieved that Y'lorani had figured it out. 

            "Then why are you so angry? Did it not feel good?" Y'lorani asked, confused. 

            "It was good," Reanna said, "but now I'm sore in muscles I didn't even know I had! Why didn't anyone tell me about that? And...and...well, I don't know why I'm so damned frustrated. Maybe because it wasn't quite what I expected it to be."

            When Reanna didn't say anymore, Y'lorani asked, "And what did you expect?"

            "I don't know! Isn't it supposed to be this magical experience? Shouldn't I feel this immense love for him now?"

            Y'lorani smiled. "Reanna, there can be love without love. In fact, your father used to love as many women as he could find, but he never loved them as he did your mother. As he would your mother if he were still alive. Love and sex are two very different things, Reanna darling. And love isn't something that happens suddenly. It takes time. There is the occasional time when someone meets their soulmate and knows them for what they are, but it doesn't happen often. 

            "The society in Port Royal wouldn't agree with me as I say this, but you should love whomever you choose until you do find a true love. We elves have been doing this since the beginning of our kind. We don't see the reasoning behind human custom of waiting until marriage to have sex. Would not you want each other to know what you're doing so that first special time isn't disappointing?"

            "So," Reanna said slowly, "what you're saying is that 'practice makes perfect' and that love has little to do with sex?"

            Y'lorani smiled. "If you wish to put it that simply, then yes, that is exactly what I mean. Do what you enjoy." 

            Y'lorani stood up and said, "We will reach St. Maarten within the hour, it's already well within sight." She turned to leave, and when she stood before the door, she said, "It only makes you hurt the first time," then she left, leaving Reanna to muse on her words before following. 

**

            "You don't know where they're going, then?" he asked the man that had come to report. 

            "No, sir, the captain just told us that we had to evacuate the ship as quickly as possible. The woman was holding onto him and said that she'd kill him if we didn't do as she said. Then when we started to get off of the Lady Pandora, the Pearl began to sail away. Well, some of us decided that we weren't gonna leave the ship, but most of us did 'cause we thought that they could still see us, and those that wouldn't come with us are all dead now, nothin' more than ashes anymore," said the man, apparently frightened at his memory.

            "But you said that there was no boarding," the seer said. 

            "Right, sir, and there wasn't! But we hadn't gotten more than half a league out when the ship suddenly went up in flames! They were at least twice as high as the tallest mast, and we still don't know how it happened."

            "You're positive that the gunpowder didn't accidentally blow up?"

            "Positive, sir, well, it could have, but that still wouldn't have accounted for the sheer height of the flames, not to mention that there wasn't an explosion when the ship first went up. That happened later."

            The seer took a moment to think on what the man was telling him. No explosion? Then how did the ship go up in flames like that? He dismissed the sailor's rendition of the flames--they were an exaggerating lot, and he would be foolish to believe everything they told him. The remaining men had likely set the ship afire so that the Pearl couldn't steal it. Captain Devon should have been proud to have such loyal crew members. That was hard to find in pirates nowadays. 

            Instead of commending the man for his news--albeit that news was quite old now--the seer instead made a motion with his hand to one of the guards that had brought the lowly sailor here. The guard took the man outside the room, and when the seer heard the gurgle of the man trying to speak with his throat cut open, he smiled in satisfaction. 

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Yes, I know I'm a day behind schedule, but at the moment, I don't care. I was burnt out, lol, so I took the weekend off! Not that I could have written anything yesterday anyway, what between the sleeping until 3 and packing up to move back here. I do hope that no one's terribly irritated with me over that. 

I've decided that I'll stop forcing myself to write a chapter a day, so the updates likely won't be as fast as they have been since...well, since the beginning of the story. I will write AT LEAST once a week, however.

Also, thank you for the reviews!


	26. Like a Charm

_For my own sake, everyone on the isle of St. Maarten speaks English, even though the island was originally a Dutch settlement. If I knew any Dutch, I would likely make them speak Dutch, but I don't, and I don't want to make Reanna know how to speak Dutch and then translate it to Devon, or vice versa. So deal with it! _

_Lol._

Chapter Twenty-Six: Like a Charm

            "So, where exactly _did _you meet your employers?" Reanna asked Devon as they explored the streets of St. Maarten. 

            "I met the one that hired me in a tavern called Lady's Feathers. He was an underling, though, I never actually met the man who is really in charge of the whole operation. I don't even know his name," Devon replied. 

            Reanna had already booked four rooms in an inn for the crew that wished to come ashore to stay in. Of course some of the crew members had to be left on the ship at night--it wouldn't do to leave the ship untended to be stolen, after all. After they had left the inn, at which Reanna had haggled the innkeeper's price from sheer robbery down to something resembling reasonable, she had proceeded to interrogate Devon as they walked through the streets. Devon would have liked to be vague, but he knew from experience that she fired off questions so quickly that it was impossible to answer with anything but the entire truth. 

            And she had a way of looking at a person that made him feel as though his soul had been bared for examination. He felt like she knew even the tiniest of secrets about him, and this made him increasingly skittish around her. He knew, of course, that she couldn't possibly know his thoughts. Her rapid-fire questions proved that to him beyond doubt, and so his secret thoughts remained safe. 

            Devon realized that if Reanna had been even the slightest bit suspicious of the thought that had been circling through his head he would be dead in an instant, but he had done very well to keep it to himself. Every time she looked at him, he couldn't help but feel a flare of guilt at the treacherous thoughts he was entertaining, and he would put them from his mind--for that moment. As soon as he was away from her he would find himself thinking the same things again, and his conscience always seemed to scream at him for these thoughts and serious considerations. 

            He was getting tired of his conscience.

            The fact was, his pay had been suspended for two months due to his losing the wager, and his purse was very thin. What had been left of his money had been burned up with his ship. He had but a few coppers to his name at the moment, and from the headache he was getting it looked as though those few coppers would go to a bar selling rather cheap liquor. For a man that had grown used to having more than sufficient funds for whatever he chose to do, he was very much disliking a lack of money. 

            He looked at Reanna, measuring her. He would have to be very clever should he decide to go through with the wicked plans brewing in his mind. Very little seemed to escape her. The only way he could get it done would be to make her trust him, and how better to make a woman trust a man than to share a bed? He would tell her about his childhood, his hopes and dreams. It had never failed him before. If there was a woman that he had difficulty coercing into his bed, all he had to do was buy her a few drinks, spill stories about his poor childhood, and she would be his. 

            It would work like a charm, and he could use it to his advantage should he decide to go through with the plan that his conscience fought tooth and nail to dissuade him from. He had chained up that nasty little voice and locked it in a chamber inside where he couldn't hear it, though.

            "Reanna, what say you we go back to the inn for a while?" he asked. 

            "Why?" she replied, answering his question with a question and looking sharply at him. 

            "I'm tired of walking, and this blasted sun is so hot, I thought you might like to sit down and have a cool drink," he said smoothly. 

            She didn't buy it. 

            "You go on back to the inn if you want, but I'm going to keep wandering. I like to know exactly what my surroundings are, in case something should happen and I would need to know the ins and outs of wherever I'm at." She said all this without once looking him in the eye.

            He shrugged, and considered continuing on with her, but he hadn't lied--it _was_ damnably hot. Maybe he'd duck into the nearest bar and sit there for a while. They should be opening up around now, anyway. The sun was halfway through its descent in the sky. 

            "I think I'll just be on my way into a bar," he said thoughtfully to Reanna. She shrugged and waved him away, uncaring, so he left her side and went into--surprise, surprise--Lady's Feathers. 

            He remembered this bar quite well. It stank of vomit and piss and other things too foul to put a name to, and had some of the worst-tasting liquor to boot. He supposed he had been told to come to this place because there was nothing really of value here, and the only people that came in were generally drunk long before the came through the doors and would remember nothing by the time the night was through. 

            At least he could get something down his throat, even if it did taste like horse piss. It would at least get him drunk, thereby ridding him of his headache. He counted his money, and smiled wryly. There was just enough to get himself quite drunk, but not quite enough to get him a hangover the next day.

            ...Unless of course he could convince someone to buy him some more alcohol. This was likely, since he was apparently charming enough even when he was drunk. 

            He slammed his money down and demanded all the ale that it could buy him. 

            Some time later, when he was well into his cups and singing with someone he had just met, someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.

            "Why, Devon! I don't believe you were actually stupid enough to come here! Come, tell me where she is."

            Devon went still, a cold shock bringing him out of his drunken stupor. God, he had been found by the seer, what was he going to do? Reanna! Where was she? 

            Something sharp cracked him on the base of his skull, and he slid down into the darkness of unconsciousness. 

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Alright, so I guess it really didn't matter that the people speak English, it didn't come up in this chapter...but that's ok, it probably will later. I hope you guys enjoyed, and PLEASE review...it makes me all happy and stuff to get reviews, and I'm so depressed when there aren't any new ones!


	27. Betrayal

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Betrayal

            Reanna frowned when she looked at the clock. It was long past midnight, and Devon had yet to come back to the inn. When he had left her, the evening had just begun, and she knew very well that he had very little money to spend. 

            She herself had returned to the inn no later than nine o'clock, not wishing to go and get herself stupidly drunk. She had expected that Devon would have been in shortly after herself, drunk on cheap liquor and out of money, but there was no sign of him. She pursed her lips and paced, never one to sit still when she was worried. 

            _Even almost all of the crew members are back already! _she fumed to herself. A feeling of foreboding had spread through her body, but she refused to let fear take hold of her and frighten the members of her crew that had come ashore. 

            _Maybe he did come in, and I just missed him? I'll go check..._

            She went up to the rooms and checked the identities of each of the sodden occupants. None of them were Devon, and the doomsayer in her mind whispered a smug "I told you so." 

            Where was he?

**

            "Where is she?" the seer demanded when he had revived Devon. 

            Devon could hardly see for the blinding pain that stretched from the base of his skull to his eyes. The odd shapes and colors twisted sickeningly, making him squeeze his eyes tightly shut and wait for the pain to subside. As he laid still, he assessed his position. He was propped up against a wall, and he couldn't move his hands because they were above his head and...manacled? Why would he be chained to a wall?

            His eyes snapped open involuntarily. God, the seer had captured him, and now he was going to interrogate him for the whereabouts of...who? Who was this "she" the seer kept asking him about?

            His tongue felt thick, and he opened his mouth to ask who it was that his tormentor wanted, but all that came out was a garbled mumble. 

            "Damn it all," the seer said with disgust. "I don't know why all of you morons seem to think you have to get drunk whenever possible."

            The seer shuffled out of his sight, and Devon decided not to try and follow him with his eyes, but to look at what was before him so he could figure out where he was. What he could see wasn't very helpful. A wall sconce held a torch whose flame flickered mesmerizingly, and there was a stool. The walls were made of stone, due to the rough and jagged points that dug into his back. He had no more time for thought as the seer came back, carrying a cup which he hoped contained some wine. 

            He was disappointed, alas, for the cup contained only water, but he was so thirsty that he gulped it down. Once he finished and the seer pulled the cup away, he asked, "Who are you looking for?"

            In the dim light, Devon could barely make out the expression of disbelief etched onto the seer's face. 

            "Who am I looking for, you ask?" the seer said, almost sweetly, then his voice hardened and any trace of kindness that may have been there vanished. "Reanna! The daughter of Sparrow! Where the bloody hell is she?!"

            Devon had to think for a moment, trying to remember who Reanna was, who he was, and why this man wanted her. It all came back to him in a flash, and he replied, "Why should I tell you that?"

            The seer was dumbfounded, and had obviously not expected such a reaction. Devon continued, "You have me chained to the bloody wall like I'm your enemy, so why should I tell you what I know?"

            "Because you abandoned your duty, you witless idiot," the seer replied menacingly. 

            _I'm sorry Reanna, _Devon thought, knowing that there was only one way out of this mess he had gotten himself into. "I didn't abandon my duty, or break my contract in any manner. I'm only on the Black Pearl because my hand was forced. Now, if you would be so kind as to unchain me so we can talk like civilized men, I'll tell you my plan."

            He felt an inexplicable sense of sorrow for what he was about to do to Reanna, but he had no choice. He was a survivor, not one committed to loyalty even if he demanded it from those who served him. 

**

            _If he's not back here in five minutes, I swear I'll keelhaul the bastard when I find him, _she promised furiously. Not a one of her crew members was unaccounted for except for Devon, and he would pay for depriving her of sleep. 

            When the door swung open not two minutes later, she turned in surprise to see that it was Devon, looking dreadfully out of breath, as though he had run two miles. 

            "Reanna!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "It's the Pearl! Come quickly!"

            Not even thinking that he could be lying, she ran out the door as fast as she could, heading towards the docks. She heard Devon behind her, but he didn't run the way exhausted men should...the oddity fled her mind when she thought about the danger her beloved Pearl could be in. 

            What few drunks were still out wandering the streets stared at her as she passed almost too quickly for their slowed minds to see her. Her braid whipped behind her as she ran faster still to reach her ship. _Gods, please let the Pearl be alright, please, gods..._

            When she finally did reach the ship, she didn't see anything wrong with it. She stood stock-still, staring at her ship in confusion. She heard Devon as he finally started to catch up--apparently he couldn't come close to matching her speed--and started to turn so she could ask him what exactly the problem was when a pair of hands grabbed each of her arms. She shouted in surprise, looking to Devon for help when a board crashed down upon her head.

**

            "You see? That was far easier than anything you could have done," Devon said mockingly, even though he felt sick at his betrayal. 

            "Yes, yes, good plan," the seer replied grudgingly, then said, "We should get her back to the manor. My boss will be very pleased to see her."

            Devon grinned as convincingly as he could, having learned long ago how to hide his true feelings, and said, "So I'll be getting a bonus for this, right?"

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AH! THE BASTARD! Drat! What will Reanna do when she wakes up? Will she find a way out of this trap? Will she get her revenge on Devon? Find out! In the next chapter of....REANNA!


	28. Finally!

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Finally!

            "Hey! She's waking up!" someone said as she shifted uncomfortably on the hard surface she laid on. 

            "Get back to work!" she mumbled sleepily, wondering why her head seemed to be surrounded by haze. The inside of her mouth tasted positively ghastly, far worse than it ever had even the morning after she had drank nearly a gallon of rum. She tried to get up and get one of her mint sticks, but fast discovered that her wrists and ankles were bound and that her body _hurt. _What the devil had happened?

            "Ah, good, the potion has not quite worn off yet," said a slightly familiar voice to her left. 

            "Who are you?" she asked, unable to see him clearly for the fog enshrouding her vision. 

            "You don't recognize me?" he asked mockingly. "Why, I killed your beloved father!"

            Images came sluggishly to mind of a bed drenched with blood, black hair spilled across it..._Da! _a voice in her mind screamed, and she would have screamed herself but for the potion slowing her reactions. Her mind kept working at the memory, trying to unlock the door that seemed to hold it just beyond her reach as her body squirmed weakly. 

            "You never said you were going to drug her," another familiar voice said, sounding disapproving. 

            "What business is it of yours, you wretched bounty hunter?" asked the first familiar voice. "Your work is done, the only reason you're still hanging about is because he wanted to give you an extra reward."

            "Drugging her is beneath you," the second voice said, vibrating with rage and hatred. 

            _That's odd, _she thought, _how do I know what he's feeling? _The moment the question passed through her mind, she felt a flood of emotions battering her on both sides, one of disgust from the man that claimed to have killed her father, and many conflicting emotions coming from the other man, the man that she knew she should know...

            "Devon?" she whispered, barely aware of the name that passed through her lips. She felt him stiffen, and a wave of concern from him flooded her. With that emotion came memory, and if she had been able to move she would have leapt upon him and dealt him many an injury. But she would have waited until after she killed the man that had called himself Richard when he had murdered her father. 

            Yet, if Devon had betrayed her, then why was he feeling concern for her? Or perhaps it was only concern for himself, she was still slightly fogged.

            "It's wearing off," Devon said, his voice devoid of emotion even if the stiffness with which he said it betrayed him--to her at least. 

            The other man cursed, then whispered to the man whose voice she hadn't recognized: "Go and tell him that the potion is wearing off, ask him what we should do with her."

            "You mean...you can't figure that out...for yourself?" she said, a bit of her wit returning to her. 

            Devon laughed. 

            A stinging blow fell across her cheek, stunning her momentarily. 

            A surge of anger came from Devon, but he held himself in check, asking through gritted teeth, "Was that necessary?"

            "The problem with you, bounty hunter," came a completely new voice, "is that you don't put women in their place. As much as I applaud your brilliant plan of worming your way into her trust, you should have taken over the ship from her. No woman can possibly captain a ship competently, no matter how independent she thinks she is."

            Reanna wished with all her might that she could see who this newcomer was. She remembered well enough what Richard had looked like, and Devon as well, but though she lifted her head she couldn't see more than a blur of color. She dropped her head back to the stone table she laid on, regretting it as pain lashed through her head. She seemed to remember being hit with something, had it made her bleed? 

            Damn, this was worse than her hangover, she thought as she moaned in pain.

            "There, you see?" the new voice said again, cutting through her pain. "She is weak. I want her brought to me in a little while, dressed in suitable clothing for a woman. See that she is sufficiently subservient."

            "Yes," said the murderer. The man left, then, she felt it in the stir of air through the room and the way everyone seemed to let out their breath. 

            "You heard him, bounty hunter," he said. "Dress her in suitable clothing for a woman."

            She felt Devon's rage build again, but it was distant. Everything was becoming dim, and she felt as though she were being sucked back into a long, black tunnel. 

            Her wrists and ankles were unlocked, but she didn't feel it, for she was already gone. 

**

            He sat in a parlor, grinning madly. She was finally his. The daughter of that wretch Jack Sparrow--if she was even truly his, the girl's mother was a slut that didn't deserve to live--was in his grasp. He would keep her as a plaything, torturing her and breaking her spirit as he would have liked to break her mother's and thought he had her grandmother's. The girl's mother had killed his son, who had had the right idea all along, truthfully. He had known well how to keep women in their place, but he had failed because he had overstepped his bounds. 

            He had let one get away.

            Well now, the father wouldn't be making the same mistake. He wouldn't let a mere woman get the best of him again. No, not again. 

            _Women are nothing but childbearers, they have no right to think for themselves. That Elizabeth is a bad influence, I should have had her killed. _

His thoughts nattered on as only a madman's could, and he giggled insanely in his large and comfortable chair. 

            Finally, he would have his revenge on them all! Jack Sparrow was dead, alas, and so he couldn't fully appreciate his daughter's torture, but the girl's mother! This would be a pleasure! The girl's grandmother--traitorous bitch that she was--would get quite the kick out of all this! Finally, they would pay for thinking to rise above themselves.

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Yay, another chapter! I think I might be getting back into the swing of things, now that my burnout appears to be finished. I'll do my best to write every other day, but if I fail, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. You guys'll just have to live with my evil cliffhangers! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


	29. Surprise, Surprise!

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Surprise, Surprise!

            Devon picked Reanna up from the stone table she laid on quivering with anger and disgust. So he was to be ordered about like some common lackey, was he? Who was it that had brilliantly created the plan that had led to the capture of Reanna when the thrice-damned seer could think of nothing? 

He snorted as he carried Reanna through the hallways on the second floor, looking for the room that the mad had ordered she be brought to. The trouble with the seer was that he depended solely on his Sight rather than using all of the available resources. Granted, the man's Sight was likely the only resource he had, Devon thought uncharitably. That, and the knowledge of potions that could do a variety of things. 

When he reached the room, he laid Reanna gently down on the comfortable bed inside and found that there was a dress laid out on a chair. He looked at all of the pieces in dismay, wishing heartily for a maidservant to help him. _At least I know where all of the parts belong, having taken this kind of thing off enough times..._he thought. 

Hearing a soft groan, from behind him, he turned and saw Reanna blinking and rolling to her side. He went quickly to her so she didn't roll off of the bed by accident. 

"What..." she mumbled.

"I'm here, Reanna, hush," he said softly.

"Devon? You..." she started, her voice sounding stronger now, and he interrupted her again. 

"Yes, I betrayed you. I'm sorry." 

"Sorry?! You're sorry for delivering me to the people that, for all I know, want me dead?" 

            She sat up now, her fury giving her limbs--and voice--strength. 

            "Reanna, I had no choice," he said lamely. "The seer captured me...he had me in chains..."

            "So you're disloyal." She let out a bitter laugh. "You're fired, I hope you know."

            "I figured as much," he said wryly. 

            "But not only are you fired, no, you're in so much trouble...I should burn you alive for what you did...and the only reason I don't is because it wouldn't be slow enough for me to exact the revenge I want of you. If only I could control myself well enough to maintain a slow flame..."

            "You...can't control it?" he asked weakly.

            "No, what's it matter to you?"

            "I had thought...that perhaps we could use it to our advantage..."

            "Oh, so it's 'we' now? You betrayed me and now you say you want to help me? Forgive me if I don't trust you," she said scathingly. 

            "When you destroyed my ship..."

            "Yes, that's what always happens when I call to fire. Why do you think we sailed so far away before I did it?"

            "God above..." he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed in shock. 

            "Gods," she corrected.

            "What?" he asked, confused.

            "There is more than one god, and the one you humans worship is far from being the all-powerful being you seem to think he is."

            "Wha--never mind," he said. "We don't have time for this right now, you're supposed to be getting dressed."

            "But I'm already wearing--"

            "You have to wear that," he interrupted--for the millionth time, it seemed. 

            She looked at the dress laid out on the bed and said, "No." Just that: "no." 

            "I've been ordered to--"

            "No!" she said firmly, interrupting him for once. "I'll not comply with my captor's wishes. Take me to him--_now_."

            She was standing now, her hands on her hips. He just stared up at her, both vexed and admiring her boldness--even if that boldness was as likely to get her killed as anything else. "Reanna, you apparently don't realize how precarious my position here is," he started, but she quieted him with her glare.

            "I don't care how precarious your position is," she said sweetly. "And at the moment I don't give a damn whether you're killed or not, regardless of the fact that you seem genuinely sorry about what you did to me."

            He wondered how she knew that he had been telling the truth but still didn't trust him, but the thought lasted only a moment. Anything was possible with Reanna. With what she had said earlier, she apparently wasn't even human, though she looked it enough if one avoided looking closely at her ears. He wondered how he had missed the pointed tips. 

            She made a frustrated noise and asked as much as commanded, "Well? Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to take me to your employer?! If I have to find him on my own I'll be even angrier with you than I was before. If you're truly sorry for what you did, show some backbone."

            He sighed and stood up, knowing that he was likely to be killed for this, but he would rather be killed by the master's men than by her. He'd receive a quicker death by far from them. 

**        

Devon led her to what appeared to be a parlor. She at first thought that no one was in the room, but then she noticed that one of the chairs was turned toward the empty fireplace. 

"Is she ready?" asked the man occupying the chair.       

"Ready for what?" she said, her voice hard. 

The man in the chair stood and turned to face her slowly, and when she at last saw his face she took an involuntary step back. She had seen this man before! There were portraits of him...gods above! 

"Arthur Bailey?" she whispered, hardly audible as she felt that there wasn't enough air to be drawn in for breath. 

This was her mother's father! Her grandfather by blood! But...wasn't he supposed to be locked up back in Port Royal?

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Finally! The mystery man that has hunted down Reanna is revealed! For those that have read Arianne...did you see this coming? ;) I confess I've known who he was for the past ten or so chapters, but that could have a wee bit of something to do with the fact that I'm the author of the story...

Nikee: You're alive! Yay! I'd been wondering if you'd suddenly dropped off the face of the earth! Lol, thanks for the review, mate!

Rin: Thanks for the review, as always, have you started reading Arianne yet? 


	30. I Plan to Break Your Spirit

Chapter Thirty: I Plan to Break Your Spirit

            She continued to stare blankly at him, her mouth wide open. How had he escaped? The last she knew, he had earned himself a sentence of being locked up for life due to his madness! Her mother had told her the whole story about how she had defeated Amos and how her father had been locked up because he had gone insane shortly after. 

            _Looks like it might be a genetic thing,_ a wry little voice whispered in her ear. She shook her head and looked at her grandfather again. 

            "So, I finally see my only granddaughter. I would likely have more grandchildren if your whore of a mother hadn't gotten my son hanged," he said in an emotionless voice. Reanna boiled with anger when he called her mother a whore. "And then there's that witch, Amara. She always encouraged your mother, you know, and I'm sure that your mother received her whorishness from her. I do hope the governor sees Amara for what she really is."

            "My mother and my grandmother are not whores," Reanna said through clenched teeth. 

            "Then there's your father, Jack Sparrow. The bloody pirate had the nerve to threaten me--twice!" Arthur didn't seem to have noticed that Reanna spoke, but continued speaking, getting more feverish with each statement. "Ah, but wait! I do have another grandchild!" he said gleefully.

            Reanna stared at him with disgust and a morbid sense of curiosity. 

            "William the third, he's called, but he's no child of Will Turner, no. He's my dead son's child by Elizabeth!"

            Reanna's eyes widened involuntarily. Little William was her mother's nephew? He was her cousin? She had long known that he looked nothing like his father, and even little like his mother, but she hadn't had any idea that he was someone else's son altogether! Briefly she wondered if he knew that, but the thought vanished when Arthur spoke again.

            "Why isn't this little slut wearing the dress I laid out for her? Why is she standing before me, when she should be kneeling? Did you not hear my orders?"

            "I did, sir, but she overpowered me," she heard Devon say slightly behind her. 

            "That dratted seer...I shall have to punish him for not giving her the right dosage of the drug. But that still leaves no excuse for you! You conceived of the plan that brought her to me, but you still haven't quite convinced me that she held you against your will."

            "I want to know," she said loudly, and Arthur stopped speaking in shock, "why the bloody hell you've been searching for me. I want to know why you killed my father. And I want to know what exactly it is you plan on doing to me so that I can tell you precisely how I'm going to foil your plans."

            Arthur snarled, his face nearly unrecognizable in the animal-like visage it had taken on. "I DID NOT GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK!" he roared. 

            "I DON'T BLOODY GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR PERMISSION, ANSWER MY QUESTIONS NOW OR I'LL HAVE TO SET YOUR HOUSE ABLAZE WITH YOU IN IT!" she roared back, and he took a step backwards, his eyes wide with disbelief. 

            He overcame his shock quickly, however, and said quite calmly, "Fine, I shall answer your questions, even though there is no fire for you to set to my home." She would have told him what she could do, but Devon put a hand on her elbow, shaking his head when she glanced at him. Furiously, she glared at Arthur and awaited his explanations. 

            "Why have I been searching for you, you ask?" he began. "Your mother was beyond my reach. I could have done nothing to her that would have had any effect on her. The same thing goes with Amara. Besides, I'd seen how Arianne looked at you sometimes, with such jealousy plain on her face. I decided that I would instead endeavor to capture you so that I might torture you into the proper subservience owed by women to men."

            Reanna snorted loudly, conveying her scorn for the last statement.

            Arthur glared at her, but continued on, "Your father--if he even was your father--wasn't killed by any plan of mine, though he would have eventually died anyway. The seer did that on his own, though I had no objection to it when I found out. It brought you to us that much sooner, so it appears. 

            "What do I plan to do with you? I plan to break your spirit, you wretched little girl. You should be on your knees before a man, not playing at being a pirate captain. Your parents raised you very badly," he said, sounding disapproving as he shook his head. 

            "I have another question," Reanna stated. "How the bloody hell did you get out of your cell in Port Royal?"

            He laughed. "There's no need to be telling you something so trivial as that." He snapped his fingers then, and a man came into the room. "Take them to the dungeon again and have the seer punish them until they feel ready to bend to my will."

            "Yes, sir," the man replied, then grabbed Devon's elbow but missed hers as she jerked out of the way. 

            "I'll not be going back down there, Arthur," she said coolly.

            He laughed loudly at her little show of defiance, but as quickly as the laughter had started it stopped, and he glared at her. "You will do as I say, woman, and you'll not complain." Then, speaking to the guard he had brought in, he said, "Make sure the seer gives her a heavier dose of the potion he gave her earlier."

            The guard nodded and reached for her again, but again she stepped out of his grasp. 

            Arthur's eyes were cold with fury now and he walked up to her, his face on level with hers as she stared defiantly at him. Faster than she would have believed possible, his hand shot up and across her face, knocking her to the side a couple of steps. The guard made another move to grab her, but she gave him a look that spelled death should he touch her, and he backed away. 

**

            Devon stood still, allowing his elbow to be held by the guard. He was vastly amused by the man's attempts to get a hold of Reanna, and when she gave him that deadly glare, he barely restrained himself from laughing out loud. 

            The handprint on her face was stark white against her very flushed cheeks. Her eyes seemed to spit sparks, and the fireplace burst into roaring flames, candlewicks all around the room flaring to life, but fire did not consume the house. _Not yet, _he thought. He knew from experience that her skin would feel like a hot stove if he were to touch it now. 

            Arthur simply stared at her with hatred in his eyes, as though he hadn't noticed the fire that had sprung to life. She took a step to face him again, and his lip curled in a sneer. When he lifted his hand to slap her again, she caught his wrist long before his hand reached her face. 

            She squeezed it tightly, and for the first time Arthur seemed to notice the pain she was causing him. Skin blackened on his arm and the smell of burning flesh permeated the room, and the temperature was rising steadily. 

            The guard that held his arm fled the room, leaving Devon to stand there and watch as Reanna, glaring into her grandfather's eyes, burned the flesh off of his lower arm. 

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Elkengrove: Hey, glad you liked the chapter!

Rin: Good, you have started reading Arianne...when you finish it, you'll understand Arthur Bailey considerably better.

The story's almost finished, I can feel it! And...I'm considering writing yet a fourth story involving Reanna's destiny being fulfilled...let me know what you guys think.


	31. Fell Words

Chapter Thirty-One: Fell Words

            Arthur was obviously in pain, but not a sound escaped his pursed lips. Slowly the blackened skin on his arm began to spread to his hand and up to his elbow. Reanna mercilessly held him in an iron grip, surprised that he wasn't even trying to fight back. All she cared about was that she was hurting him, who had hurt her, her mother, her grandmother, and most especially her father. 

            Though his hand had not ordered her father's death, it had provided the means for it, and that she could not forgive. Never. She fully intended to burn him to a crisp slowly, so very slowly, as she was doing now. She knew that she couldn't let her control escape her, for if she did the manor would disintegrate in a fiery conflagration and much of the town would likely follow it. 

            She would not endanger innocent lives. Not for the like of him. 

            She was vaguely aware that the guard Arthur had called in earlier had left the room in a hurry, leaving Devon to witness what she did here. She wasn't much surprised when she heard--detachedly--the running footsteps of several men coming to the room. "Lock it," she said, her voice sounding dim to her own ears, so concentrated she was on Arthur and not letting her fire lore get out of control. 

            She heard the lock snick closed, and fell deeper into her concentration. Arthur moved his free hand as though to pry her grip from his arm, but she grabbed this arm as well, taking satisfaction in the way his eyes widened in fear, his lips parted as though to scream, though still no sound passed from his mouth. He knew he was dying, and knew that there would be more pain to come before finally he was embraced by Death. 

Both of his hands were now completely charred, the skin wrinkling and peeling the way burnt wood did. His arms were blackened past the elbows as she burned him from the inside. 

She thought she spoke, but could not be sure, so deep was she in herself, so intently watching Arthur's horror. 

If she had been able to hear herself she would likely have quailed from words in a language that had long been unspoken on this world, words so weighted with power that they seemed to pull the very fabric of reality with them as they spilled from her lips. 

She didn't even hear as a great pounding started at the door, she didn't hear Devon's gasp of fear, she didn't hear it when Arthur finally began to scream. All she knew was what she saw directly in front of her, the power burning just beneath her skin, coursing through her veins and making her heart continue beating. She was no longer of this earth, she became something other and far more dangerous than anything the mortals had ever seen. 

**

            Y'lorani started out of her meditation, sweating and shivering from the vision that had beset her. She knew not whether it had been a vision of present or future, but it had shown her exactly where Reanna was. 

            Reanna had been missing for a week now, and Devon had been missing with her. The crew of the Black Pearl had searched for her, but there had been no sign of their captain. Y'lorani had sought her out through vision several times since, but had not been able to find her. For the first time, Y'lorani cursed the protection that kept Reanna hidden from Sight. 

            Now, however...something dreadful was happening, some power was awakening. The words of power Reanna had spoken had nearly shaken Y'lorani's soul from her mortal body. Reanna had flared into her vision of a sudden, nearly blinding Y'lorani with her brilliance and for a moment only showing her everything that was happening where she was.

            Reanna had been holding tight to a man's arms, and he was being burned alive by her touch alone, as though her skin were fire while

            Devon looked on dispassionately, soaked with sweat as the room grew hotter and hotter, he gasped in shock and fell, hands clutching at his ears as the words reverberated through the room and

            the men pounding on the door ceased suddenly, the door having grown warm, and when the words were spoken they fell screaming to the ground as well, their bodies horribly writhing as they began to burn from the inside as well.

            In the stone dungeon a man that looked oddly familiar seemed unaffected by what ailed everyone in the upper stories of the house. This man seemed to know no fear, in fact he seemed happy that everyone upstairs was dying. There was no one with him and he smiled grimly in satisfaction, seeming to know that to leave the dungeon now would mean his certain death. 

            He grew alert suddenly and for a moment his gaze fell upon her, his eyes widening in shock, and she knew that he saw her and did not know who she was. "Who are you?" he had asked.

            It had been then that she had come out of the vision, a part of her tied to Reanna and inorexably drawn to her, compelled to join her. Y'lorani did not know what had happened for Reanna's power to suddenly increase tenfold, but she had suspicions. 

            For now, she resisted the pull of Reanna's power, not ready yet to face her with what she thought might be true. 

**

            "He is dead, will you not let go now?" asked a voice directly beside her, pulling her out of her trance and cooling the burning rage that had nearly consumed her. When she looked at the blackened corpse she still held to, she shuddered in revulsion and let it go, her sudden movement making it fall to a heap of ashes at her feet. She shuddered again and backed away until she reached the wall, hardly believing what she had done. 

            She fell to the ground, only then realizing that she was trembling quite uncontrollably as she stared at the pile of ash.

            "So. You know now why I suppressed your power. You reached far and gathered much of the heritage that your mother passed to you and caused great damage. No, I speak not only of this man, but the ones in the hall as well. Are you satisfied in your revenge? There is still one who has not yet suffered your wrath, would you kill him as he did your father?"

            "No," she croaked, her throat parched. "No, I'll not kill again."

            "Yes, Child, you will. You will kill again, and again, and again, but only if you let your rage take control of you like you did here will you kill so painfully and mercilessly. You will have no choice but to kill again."

            It was only then that she looked up at Him, her eyes empty of all emotion save horror. "Why?" she whispered.

            Tears came, then, a balm to her singed soul, and He took her into His arms and comforted her as a father would. 

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Ye gods, what damage she did...I was interrupted at the end of this chapter, and I hadn't realized just how into it I had gotten. *rubs eyes* 

Elkengrove: Well, she did it! Burned him and most of his lackeys to a crisp...

Rin: I'm glad you're so excited about a fourth story! A set of four stories is called a quartet, I believe. 

Nikee: Lol, bummer about your e-mail. Glad you reviewed, though!

Thanks all of you!


	32. RedHanded

Chapter Thirty-Two: Red-Handed

When the first wave of tears passed, He whispered to Reanna, "There is one who still lives, though he is wavering on the cusp of death. Do you wish to save him?"

She nodded, and He set her down. She watched as He walked over to the charred body laying on the ground and set His hand upon the blackened head. She gasped when his skin shed the coat of char. She had never meant to hurt him!

* * *

God he hurt. The burning had finally stopped, but the pain lingered on. He couldn't even open his eyes for they seemed to be sealed closed. He thought he could hear two voices over the roaring in his ears, and tried to understand what they were saying. Something about killing? Power being taken? He couldn't make sense of their conversation, but he suspected that the distraught voice was Reanna's. The other one sounded...well, he couldn't describe what the other one sounded like. He couldn't seem to decide whether the other voice was male or female, deep or high, soft or loud. It seemed very important that he decide who--what--this other person was. 

His heightened senses picked up someone coming close to him. When they stopped, barely an inch from his arm, he almost groaned in anticipation, though he knew not whether the anticipation was for death, or healing. 

He started badly, tearing skin from his back when a surprisingly cool hand rested upon his head. The pain receded and he almost felt whole again. When he would have opened his eyes and looked around him, that indefinable voice said, "Sleep." 

So he did.

* * *

"Gods, Devon!" she gasped. "I never meant to hurt him!" The tears started anew, and He held her again.

"It was only because you held little enmity towards him that he survived, Child. You wished to hurt him, but not to the extent that you wanted to hurt everyone else. Be at peace, Child, he will be fine."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You must know, however, that you will not be able to take him with you. He is too much of this world, and fully human. He will never be able to be what you need, or even want. Soon you will find yourself drifting farther and farther from him. I will not tell you what you should do. You will make that choice on your own."

"Where are you going?" she cried when He started to fade. 

"I cannot stay any longer, Child. Your shipmates are approaching, your last nemesis escapes. Know that what I took from you has been returned. I will be back only when you have greatest need of me."

As He spoke, He continued to fade until His voice was all that was left to prove that He had been here. Tears trickled down her cheeks, nothing like the torrent of tears that had poured before. He had left her again to her own devices. _Why?_ she asked herself. _It's obvious that I can't do things right on my own..._

For the moment, she decided, she would watch over Devon until he woke. After all, he had never truly intended harm to come to her. 

* * *

The seer grimly waited until all was quiet above before daring to step out of the dungeon onto the first floor. The first thing he did was to go to the safe where all of the money had been locked up. It took him a moment to find the combination, but he did, and when the safe came open, he emptied its considerable contents into a large bag. 

He smiled, mentally thanking Reanna for helping him get what he wanted without him having to lift a finger. She was such a wonderful girl. 

Having gotten what he wanted from the safe, he decided to do a bit of snooping around the kitchen to see if there was perhaps some valuable silver that could be taken and sold (all honestly, of course, since the man who had owned the silver previously was now dead, it couldn't be considered stealing) to some merchant who would offer the right price. He had little need of more money, but it was a shame to leave anything behind for petty thieves to take and sell far below actual value. 

The clock chimed the hour: seven o'clock. He had been looting for more than three hours now, it was time to leave. He closed the velvet-lined box in which the full set of silver was contained, locked it, and slid it into his bag full of money and jewels. 

He considered leaving by the back door, but a haughty smirk stole over his face. Why leave by the back door? No one even knew what had happened here! He wasn't going to sneak away like some thief--no, that was dangerous, for if you _looked_ guilty, the police would be sure to assume that you _were _guilty. 

So he would leave by the front door, standing tall and whistling jauntily. Yes, that was the perfect course.

He soon discovered that the perfect course wasn't so perfect when he opened the front door to see several people standing there. Pirates, by the look of them. The one that stared at him with some surprise, then disdain, and then fury, he recognized. He had "seen" her in the dungeon some hours ago. 

"You killed Jack," she said, her voice hard with fury and grief. The rest of the group glared at him murderously.

So was he caught. 

* * *

Wow, I got four whole reviews for the last chapter! That's more than I've gotten for any one chapter throughout the whole story! Thanks you guys!

Rin: The "father-like spirt," as you call him, isn't just a spirit. He is the rise or fall of everything, even and especially the gods. He is the Aether out of which everything is born. He is not even necessarily a "he," though He appears to Reanna as a male--likely because that is what she has need of: someone fatherly that she can trust, as she's had little luck with her mother. Just thought I'd clarify that for everyone. . 

Also, I'm curious as to how many chapters are left, myself. I THINK that there are only one or two left (most likely two, though that "two" could turn into three, or even four...).Thanks for your review!

Nikee: I hope you understood more in this chapter! Especially after my explanation to Rin above. If you would like some more explanation, I would be quite happy to give it to you. Thanks for the review!

Elkengrove: Another gasping review! I'm flattered, lmao! And yes, that was quite a bit of pent-up rage...I quite understand how she felt. If I had her power, likely every house I've ever lived in would have been burned to the ground...Muchas Gracias por el review!

Never A Dull Moment: WOW it's been a long time since I've heard anything from you! I'm glad you're back! You rather missed a lot in the month you were gone, I'm sorry, lol. I am very glad that you're liking this story so much, it's so very much appreciated, and I hope you liked this chapter as well as the others. I'm glad you don't seem to angry with me for killing Jack, lol. I had thought that this would be the last story, but apparently it isn't, so I'll have to wait until IT'S finished to actually write a fantasy novel that's completely original...blah. Ah well!

Thank you so much for your review!

Thank you all, you guys have no idea how much I appreciate you!

And wow, this new Preview/Quick Edit tool is pretty neat!


	33. So Much Pain and Death

Chapter Thirty-Three: So Much Pain and Death...

She was still sitting beside Devon's prone and sleeping body when her crew found her.

"Reanna!" Y'lorani said, her voice reverberating with fierce joy, relief, and anger. Reanna looked up at her, startled at the sudden return of the colors to Y'lorani's voice. She had grown accustomed to reading people's facial expressions and the way their bodies moved when they were lying. The sudden return of color came as a bucket of icy water dumped over her on a sweltering day.

When she had stared too long, Y'lorani's expression grew concerned. "Reanna, are you alright?"

Reanna shook her head to free herself from her self-induced spell, and replied with a weak smile, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not, but you will be," Y'lorani said, her voice now colored deep purple with grim satisfaction in some revenge. Reanna looked at her curiously until someone was roughly pushed forward, his head and neck battered with bruises, but still readily recognizable.

"It's you!" she exclaimed, and he glared up at her in hatred. "Why did you kill my father?" she asked him, her voice hard.

He spat at her feet.

Her lips thinned, and she stepped closer to him, lifting his chin and forcing him to look her in the eye. "I'll only ask you one more time before I decide to get angry and force the memory from you. Why did you kill my father?" she asked, her voice heavy with command.

The seer wrinkled his nose and spat, "Because he's a bloody pirate, that's why." His voice was black with hatred and grey with fear. There was also a vein of blue running through it, telling her that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

She sighed. "You had better give me the whole truth, you imbecile. You should know by now what you're dealing with."

"I won't!" he answered defiantly.

"Do you really want everyone in this room to see every little thing you've done in your life? I can break your mind open and show it to them. I don't care about that, however, all I want to know is why you killed my father."

He stared at her, filled with hatred, but he was unable to resist the compulsion she had laid in her words.

"I killed him because he knew too much about me. Because I thought he might tell the world who I was and that I would be hanged with the rest of the former crew of the Black Pearl. I killed him because he brought me up from where I came from, and then made me work the as a lowly hand at deck. Not that Barbossa was any better."

Reanna's eyes smoldered. "You killed him because he helped you? Because he gave you a job to occupy your worthless life?"

"Yes!" the seer exclaimed, then, "And I'll be damned if I wouldn't be glad to kill him a million times more!"

"You'll be damned alright," Reanna said, drawing her sword in one fluid motion and stabbing it up under his rib cage and into his heart. His eyes held only surprise before they dimmed with death, his soul fled.

The crew cheered in grim revenge. Finally the one that had slain their beloved Jack Sparrow had died as well, there was finally closure.

When the cheering had died, Mr. Gibbs asked, "Well, what do we do now?"

Reanna looked up from the seer's corpse and said, "You clean up this mess, first of all, then the lot of you are to get back to the Pearl and make it ready to set sail! We're leaving this gods-cursed isle."

Once she finished speaking, a few men came forward to haul the seer up and drag him away while the rest of the crew excepting Y'lorani left the house.

"You saw?" Reanna asked Y'lorani quietly.

"I saw. For the first time I saw you. I don't know if this means that your protection from scryers is gone, or if that flash of vision was only because you were using so much power. Reanna, I have to ask you something--"

"No, not right now, Y'lorani," Reanna said, sinking to the floor beside Devon again. "I don't know if I can handle anything more right now. Gods, so much pain and death have I caused..."

Y'lorani left Reanna to her thoughts beside the still sleeping Devon.

_Da, I found him, I know why he killed you, but you were right, I'm not satisfied. If only you were here to tell me that it's alright...but you're not, and things will never be alright again...and now before me I have a destiny that seems far too heavy for me to bear through to its end. Da, I wish you were here to help me..._

_ Gods, I've become something and I've finally overcome the shadows you and mother cast over me, Da, but I don't like how it happened, and I hate that you had to die for me to grow. _

_ He took my power, Da, and for a long time I didn't know what I had lost, but after what happened today, I'm glad He took it from me. If He hadn't, so many innocent people would be dead and they would have died horribly. It's bad enough that I killed the ones that I did so terribly. I didn't mean to, Da! I didn't mean to!_

_ Mother...how could she have grown up with such a man as her father was? Was it only in that last year that he became so cruel? So thoughtless? Da, if it hadn't been for me, you would still be alive, and Mother would still be...sane. Y'lorani thinks that Mother isn't the goddess anymore. She hasn't said anything, but I can hear it in her thoughts. Her mind speaks loudly to me. _

_ Y'lorani thinks that Mother passed on her immortal soul and godhood to me. She thinks that Mother will die of age if she doesn't take her own life first. _

_ And it will be my fault. _

* * *

Short, I know, and I'm sorry, but it seemed appropriate to end the story here. Fear not, however, for the next and final installment of these fics will commence shortly! I don't know what I'm going to call it...but I'm sure you guys'll find it fine! Thank you all SO MUCH for your support, you guys are the reason I kept writing these things, and I'm very grateful to you all! I hope you enjoyed it immensely!

Also, as a side note, I posted a couple of poems that I wrote six years ago based on a trilogy I was reading...if anyone would like to, feel free to read them! You don't have to have read the books first, the poems are really rather self-explanatory, and if you'd give me your thoughts on them that would be fantastic!

Now, to reply to the reviews I got in the last chapter:

Never A Dull Moment: Muchas gracias! I rather wanted Reanna and Devon to be together too, but my muse planted the idea in my head that it wouldn't be appropriate...he'd age and die and she would still be young and healthy. That's just too depressing to contemplate. Perhaps Reanna will find a new paramour in the next story, it's hard to say.

Elkengrove: Thank you for being faithful to my stories! You don't know how much you're appreciated!

And Nikee...I hope I answered your questions to your satisfaction. Let me know if you have anymore and I'll e-mail you.

Sniffles, shedding a tear. Reanna is...complete...


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